


Autumn Leaves

by nimrod262



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Finnenson, Headcanon, M/M, Nivanfield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:10:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4876300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuing on from the Summer Days, Summer Nights arc.  Ch 1.  The Director BSAA arrives at the Deuce of Hearts and plans a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Director Calls

**Author's Note:**

> This is Chapter 1 in the Autumn Leaves arc. It introduces the Director of the BSAA, 'Dee' and his assistant Mike Lugano. We find out more about Sgt Francisco Cortez and his boss, Captain Steven Burrows.
> 
> Lyric quoted from the song 'You can call me Al' written by Paul Simon.

 

It was midnight, the witching hour. In some places goodness abounded, in others evil lurked. In yet others it was just . . . well, it was just strange!

As the minute hand passed midnight, a cool wind blew in through the open glass doors above the enclosed Japanese garden. It came from the north, ruffling the summer slick surface of the river, the leaves of the aspens that lined the banks trembling as it passed. The first announcement of Autumn. Unconsciously Piers snuggled in closer to Chris; even asleep he hated the cold. Chris' eyes twitched in REM as the voile curtains lifted for the first time in weeks and billowed silently into the bedroom. In the utility room downstairs, the eyes of a German Shepherd puppy twitched in sympathy. They were both dreaming of Piers Nivans.

Piers had bought jelly donuts. As he walked down the track through the woods two pairs of hungry brown eyes followed him. Scarlet tongues lolled against sharp white fangs. They attacked in unison, claws slashing, jaws snapping, Chris howled and Ruff yipped in the gory pursuit. His tactical vest showed blood where the claws ripped and the fangs bit. Piers threw the bag of donuts at his pursuers. 'Get these mutts away from me, I don't find this stuff amusing any more.' he sang.

"Whoa! That's too weird!" Chris awoke with a start . . .

On the nearby base a tall young man closed the door silently behind him. He paused to listen, his Adam's apple bobbed nervously. 'All clear' he thought; then he padded silently down the dimly lit barrack corridor; clad only in his regulation olive green boxers and a tan shemagh . . .

Not very far away, Sgt Francisco Cortez splashed water onto his face, he winced as it hit the bruised and still broken lip. Without the marks he would have been handsome in a brutal way. Thick hair, black as jet, a large, strong nose. Full eyebrows and delicate lashes framed eyes that once were brown as a nut. Eyes that still carried the purple marks of bruising. But he barely recognised the face that returned his gaze, the now dull and lifeless eyes blinking as the water dripped from them. He patted his face with the towel and went to his desk, switching on the lamp as he sat down. His fingers shook as he picked up the pliers . . .

Danny quietly opened the door to see Finn lying on one side of his bed, lit only by a small light above the bunk. He grinned his silly grin up at Danny and patted the space beside him; the sheet already turned down. Danny smiled and put a finger to his lips. By the time his boxers hit the floor, the light was out . . .

Cortez stared through the lens of the table magnifier lamp, bringing the component into focus. His brow furrowed as he concentrated, trying to remember the instructions . . .

Rob Ellis reached over and cuddled Mary. "Well, hello handsome!" she said, "What brings you here?" Rob was just about to tell her when Robbie Jr came in with his sister. She was holding on to him with one hand and clutching her teddy bear in the other.

"Becky had a bad dream, she was crying. Can we sleep with you? Please?"

Rob sighed, then grinned at his wife. "Well that killed the moment." he whispered ruefully, "Come on kids, in you get . . . "

As the children snuggled up to their parents, peace descended on the Ellis household once more. Just before he drifted off, young Robbie's keen ears heard a motor bike drive past in the street. 'Whazz, whazz, crackle . . . whazz, crackle, crackle' as it changed up noisily through the gears. He'd have one of his own some day he thought drowsily, like Uncle Piers. The sound faded in his mind as he fell asleep.

"What's weird babe?" said Piers sleepily.

"My dream, Ruff and I were chasing you for donuts! And you were singing Paul Simon."

"Hhm? Just two betas vying for the alpha male. I wouldn't worry about it, go back to sleep."

"I was going to eat you!"

"Uh? not now babe, yawn, later perhaps . . . Zzz "

When Danny left Finn's room he was happy, if somewhat sleepy! He didn't notice one of the doors in the corridor was slightly ajar as he passed by. The nameplate on it said 'Cpl Higgs A. - BSAA Police'.

In an office two hundred miles away and still at his desk, a large man held a phone close to his ear. Although he was engaged in a monumental battle of good versus evil, midnight's coming and going had passed him by. The hour was not important. Time itself was his most precious commodity.

Every so often, his tongue would dart out and flick over his full lips, moistening them as he spoke. "Yes, General . . . I see . . . Oh? Him? . . . Well thank you so much . . . yes and you too . . . Goodbye." He put the phone down and paused to think briefly, before his rheumy eyes continued their perusal of the report before him. It was in a thick, bright red folder, marked 'TOP SECRET - HUMINT' Human intelligence. Information garnered by his field agents from human sources as opposed to electronic means for example. He laughed to himself. 'If it wasn't for humans, there'd be no need for secrets anyway.' He carried on reading for a while. He was just about to press the intercom button when a there was a knock at his office door. A burly man, around 50, entered the room. He was the sort of man you'd want on your side in a fight. His buzzcut was regulation length, his neck thick and muscular. His name was Mike Lugano, and he was a former gunnery sergeant in the US Marines.

"I thought you'd like these." he said in a heavy Bronx accent that somehow matched his frame. He placed a small tray with an espresso dopio and a single-malt scotch on the desk; then he massaged the older man's shoulders. His large hands kneading the flesh with a surprisingly delicate touch. "You push yourself boss, you should get some rest."

"Thank you Michael, I must do this. You know I don't have long. You do understand don't you?"

"It's your life Boss. You know best."

"Look, you go home, I promise I'll take a nap before the morning. Oh, and ready the car first thing please Michael, seven o'clock. I think we'll go for a drive tomorrow."

"Sure Boss, anything you say, but take that nap!" He gave the man's neck one last affectionate squeeze, then left. He knew well enough not to ask where they might be going the next day. He'd be told once they were on the road.

The man carried on reading through the night. Every so often he would wipe his eyes dry, and occasionally, he would use an inhaler. He made and received several phone calls during the night. Bad news never slept. Around 4 am he closed the folder, switched off the lights and lay on a couch in the office, pulling a rug over his body. 'Not enough time' he thought, 'there's not enough time.'

************************

The phone on Chris' bedside table rang. He opened weary eyes and groped for the light switch first, then got up to answer the phone on the stand by the door. 'God, what time was it?' "Um, Captain Redfield here"

"Christopher, dear boy! I'm so sorry, did I wake you." The voice held a trace of sarcasm, but warmth and affection too. "Can you talk?"

"Off course Director, your obedient rebel is always at your service."

"Oh, touché Christopher, you remembered dear boy! Ha, ha.

"What can I do for you Dee?"

"Ah, to the point indeed. Can you be at home today? And your young partner too?

"Of course Dee. Any opportunity to get away from that desk you tie me to!"

"Ah Christopher, what an arresting image you conjure up! I sense you are in fine form today! Send your delightful young man to meet me at the Seven of Clubs if you'd be so kind; 11:00 on the dot. Tell him to walk up. We'll have a stroll and a little chat before I arrive. I could do with some fresh air, and some stimulating conversation."

"As you wish Dee, go easy on him please. He doesn't know you like I do"

"Dear boy, you make me sound like a tyrant! Ha, ha. Oh, perhaps you would tidy up the Deuce of Hearts, I'd like a little tour, if I may. You know, as your landlord! It will give you both something to do before I arrive."

Chris raised his eyebrows at that one, but bit his tongue. 'What was the old fox up to?' he wondered.

"Certainly Dee, with Piers here it's always pretty tidy these days!"

"Oh good, a change for the better then Christopher! Till then dear boy, goodbye"

"11:00 Director." Chris put the phone down and scratched his head, then looked down at quizzical hazel eyes. "Guess who's coming to dinner!" he grinned

"Hhmm, the Director of BSAA, and technically its lunch, not dinner. Close?"

Chris sat astride Piers and messed up his hair. "You always spoil my best lines Nivans! It seems he wants to talk to you, and then inspect the Deuce of Hearts. He's up to something, trust me."

"I always do babe. I've only met him once, at that Founder's Wedding we went to. We only spoke briefly, but he seemed like a nice old boy. He reminded me of that old film star, Charles Laughton, all jowls and wobbly chins, and that posh New England accent of his!" He laughed, but Chris gave him a stern look.

"Piers, that's disrespectful to the BSAA's Director and don't be fooled by that appearance. His mind is as sharp as your eyesight, and more besides. For me, he is one of our greatest assets. We all owe him a great deal. We may be the ones that get the praise, but he's the real hero in my eyes."

"I'm sorry Chris." Piers went red, "You admire him a lot, I didn't mean to be insulting. Tell me about him, I know he was in Army Intelligence in Vietnam, but after that he seemed to pretty much disappear, until he headed up the BSAA."

"He left the army, one of the last out of Da-Nang, and went back to university. Studied law and politics, and then went into the State Department, a professional diplomat I guess you'd say, Asia and the Middle-East mainly. After 9/11 Congress set up a council of 'Wise Men' to oversee how the CIA, the NSA, and the Military co-operated. It soon became obvious they didn't. Dee was one of those wise men. He went back into intelligence to sort things out, possibly the CIA, I don't know. He came on board as Director after Clive O'Brien left in 2004. And he's been there ever since. I tell you Piers, be thankful he's on our side, he's utterly ruthless when he has to be. Don't let that white linen suit and the panama hat fool you either, he's not your regular friendly Uncle Sam."

Even Piers was impressed. "Wow! That's some career. What do you think he wants here?"

"We might not know even after he's gone. These days he will never tell you more than he thinks you need to know. Just enough to do your job. He started out trying to share the intelligence from the SOAs and SOUs with other government agencies. That was the basic 9/11 problem, people guarding rather than sharing their information, but the BSAA wasn't trusted then. It still isn't entirely. Sadly we're not everyone’s favourite NGO. There were too many intelligence leaks in STARS and the BSAA isn't perfect. So now he plays his cards pretty close to his chest. He has a circle of trusted friends, I'm one, Jill may be another; though she's never confirmed it." He shrugged. "And don't ask me who the others are. I don't know, and I don't want to."

"I've never given it much thought before," said Piers, 'I'm a good soldier, that's my job. I leave the policy making to others. I didn't realise you were so actively involved, you never talk about it normally."

"Because up to now I've kept you out of that side of things Ace. I wanted someone to take over from me operationally; not be sidetracked by the power politics behind the scenes. I'd rather face a BOW I can see than fight shadows and intrigue in the corridors of headquarters any day; but Dee trusts me and I trust him."

"So why talk to me then? I'm just a soldier, a sniper, I don't know anything about politics. I'm not sure what to say! I'd be grateful for some advice Chris."

"Simple, answer truthfully and keep It brief. He'll know if you're lying or bullshitting. And you'll know as well. He'll just stop talking to you if he thinks you're wasting his time. He can't abide time wasters. Oh, and no sarcasm, no pouting, and no eye rolling. Yeh, just like that!" Chris grinned as Piers pouted and rolled. "That's all I can say Ace, you'll be fine. I think he likes what he's seen so far." And on that enigmatic note, Chris ended the conversation.

By the time they had showered and shaved it was 06:30. "Let's get some breakfast, I'm wide awake now and I'm starving!" said Chris.  Afterwards we can ready ourselves for the Director's inspection! Have we got any jelly donuts left Ace?"

"Hmm, I think you and Ruff fought over the last one before you went to bed. You know you shouldn't eat last thing at night babe, no wonder you have bad dreams!"

"Thank you for reminding me Granny! Um, try looking in the top left cupboard babe, I, er, keep my reserve stash there!"

"Christopher!"

When they had finished breakfast Chris decided to go in to the base, just to check there was nothing urgent on his desk and to let Andy Walker know they wouldn't be in for the rest of the day.

"Knowing Dee, he'll have gotten Jill to tell people anyway; but it doesn't hurt to make sure. Like everything he does, Dee plans this sort of thing meticulously. You're a lot like him in that respect. I'll only be an hour or so babe, then I'll be back to give you a hand for Dee's visit. OK?"

Sure, I'll give Ruff a quick walk first; there's not much to tidy up. Do you think he'll want to go upstairs?"

"I have a feeling he wants to go everywhere today. I can't think why, but he's the boss, and our landlord, as he reminded me. We'll find out soon enough."

Ruff had heard the word 'walk' and begun to bounce around, yipping excitedly. "Come on then puppy, walkies." said Piers.

Chris laughed to himself. 'There's irony for you Piers Nivans!'

************************

Chris took the stairs up to his office. Robin Ellis was at his desk as Chris passed by his door.

"Hi Batman, shouldn't you be at home? You've only just got back from ops."

"Redwing! No peace for the wicked I'm afraid."said Rob grinning. "I've got to interview our friend Sergeant Cortez later this morning. Unless he's had a complete change of heart, I'm afraid his days in the BSAA are numbered."

"Remind me, what's his background again Rob?" asked Chris, curious.

"An orphan, state children's home, poor college grades, a drifter and then the army, Iraq, Afghanistan. Then he quit, after that there's a bit of a blank, probably more drifting, getting his shit together I suppose. Then he applied to the BSAA. And that's just about it, no identifiable family or relatives. Almost a non-person, a misfit. But he had a clean army record, good references from former COs. Ideal BSAA material!" Rob laughed. "A man with no past and an uncertain future!"

"Um, there's a few like that I suppose!" replied Chris thoughtfully. "Look, I'm only in for an hour today, Piers and I have some pressing personal admin to catch up on. Whilst you're in could you keep an eye on things? We'll be back in tomorrow."

"Sure Chris, Jill put out a group message to that effect, that's why I was surprised to see you. It's very important admin then?"

"No good fishing Batman, I'll catch you later. Good luck with Cortez by the way, I know you'll do what's best for all concerned."

Chris rang Andy, then flicked through his e-mails on the BSAA intranet, its secure internal network. Nothing much to worry about, the usual blah, blah. None of the regular headquarters crap though, which was odd. 'Dee's been planning this for sometime' thought Chris.

His phone rang and he picked it up, "Captain Redfield."

"Oh, hello Captain, it's Lt Casey, from personnel," she sounded surprised, "I thought you were out, I was going to leave you a message."

"Susie isn't it?  Well you've got the real thing, not my answer phone!" They both laughed.

"It's about that accommodation question you had. There are currently 3 empty married quarters available on the base. One 2 bed and two 3 bed. There's also your retained suite in the officers mess, which has 2 bedrooms, you said we could use that in case of emergencies. Does that help Captain?"

"Thanks Susie, it's not an emergency, well, not yet I hope! Would it be possible to reserve one of the 3 bed quarters?  Perhaps for the next couple of months?"

"Sure Captain, certainly for a month anyway, we've no movements on the planner for the next 5 weeks. Whose name shall I put down?"

"Mine please Susie."

"Oh, are you and Pier..er..Lt Nivans coming back to us?"

"No, nothing planned on that front, sorry to disappoint you. 'Pier..er..Lt Nivans' and I are still living happily at the Deuce of Hearts!" He laughed.

"Oh Captain, I didn't mean . . ." She giggled. "The girls do miss seeing him in the mess, oh, and you too of course."

"I quite understand, carry on Lieutenant." he said in a mock 'stern' voice.

"Oh Sir, yes Sir!" still giggling.

'You haven't lost it yet Redfield, still got the gift.' he grinned as he put the phone down. And at least Andy will have somewhere to live if he and Rosa do get it together. Right, time to get back to my own little love nest.'

Sgt Francisco Cortez entered the office of Captain Burrows, head of base security. He hadn't bothered to knock and didn't salute before sitting in the chair opposite Burrows.

"You wanted to see me Burrows?"

Cortez had been temporarily suspended from duty after his run in with Chris at the rifle range. Rob Ellis had had an uncomfortable interview with his Sergeant soon afterwards, but since the incident was 'unofficial' no charges were made. But the Captain of Bravo Team had made it plain that any further trouble would lead to a formal written warning; following which any subsequent misbehaviour would lead to a review board, and potential dismissal. Ostensibly his suspension was a period to recover from his injuries; and indeed he had spent some time with the resident dentist. But as a civilian funded organisation, the BSAA did not strictly follow the military code of law, it had no Courts Martial, for instance, but instead adopted a rather cumbersome mix of civil and military regulations. Something many former servicemen were unhappy about; but he who pays the piper calls the tune!

Burrows looked up. "I wondered when you would show up! What the hell did you think you were doing? Of all people, Redfield and his, his . . ." He spat the words out! ". . . fucking queers! We have a plan, and you almost wrecked it! Thank god it wasn't made official, its taken months to get us this far you idiot!"

Cortez snorted, "Your plan? Your plan es una mierda, it's shit! I know my orders. I'm not interested in your fucking games anymore, this is a waste of my time." Cortez got up to leave.

"Wait, you'll do as I say Sergeant Cortez! Sit down I say" said Burrows, spittle on his lips.

But Cortez ignored him. He leaned over the desk and looked at Burrows, then through him with those dull, distant eyes. "You've taken too long, you stupid little man. I have my own orders now. He said I was . . ." Cortez suddenly stopped himself. "You'll see, it won't be long." As he left the office he turned to look at Burrows and grinned through missing teeth. "Keep out of my way, entiendes amigo?"

************************

The dark green Range Rover pulled up to the gate at the Seven of Clubs at 11:00 precisely, flashing it's headlamps briefly at the waiting Lieutenant. Piers noted it sat low on its run-flat tyres, testimony to the armoured protection it carried. He pressed the fob in his pocket and the unobtrusive looking gate slide back silently on its well greased track. The car pulled in and stopped. Piers stepped forward to open the passenger’s door when the driver suddenly appeared before him.

"If you don't mind Lieutenant." a Bronx accent commanded. The solid looking man opened the door. The occupant stepped out and stretched gingerly. He would have been tall once, but now his shoulders were hunched with age, as if supporting the large heavily jowled head had finally proved too much effort. Which was partly true.

"Lieutenant Nivans, delightful, delightful." he offered a large hand, blotched with age and liver spots.

"Director, it's good to see you again. I hope you had a pleasant journey?"

"Oh, I wouldn't know dear boy. You would have to ask Michael here. I spent the time reading reports and files, including yours. Shall we walk? I desire to talk to you."

"Certainly Sir, as you wish." Piers was about to set off when the Director held his arm.

He looked up at the clear blue sky. "Do I need my hat? Do you think it will rain dear boy?"

Piers smiled nervously. "I don't think so Sir, but better be safe than sorry, I'll get it for you." He took the panama proffered silently by the unsmiling Mike.

They walked in silence for a few yards. "Oh dear, now I've forgotten my briefcase, would you mind dear boy?"

"Of course not Sir." Piers stopped himself from sighing. 'Was the Director senile?' Mike handed him the case, 'Was that a wink?'

"Lieutenant Nivans!" The voice was loud and commanding, Piers almost jumped.

"Director?"

"What's the matter with you? Has someone shoved a broom up your arse?"

"Sir!?" This wasn't the posh voice, this was the young Lieutenant in Da-Nang.

"I am informed you are arrogant, prone to sarcasm and don't suffer fools gladly. Piers rolled his eyes, he couldn't help it. "Furthermore, you have a habit of questioning authority, yet here you are, servile, obsequious. Which is it?" Piers pouted. "I don't want to talk to some little tin soldier." continued the Director.  "I want to talk to the real Piers Nivans, with all his faults as well as his strengths. The Piers Nivans that has captured the heart of my best Captain! Do you understand?"

Piers flushed. "I'm sorry Sir, I thought it was appropriate behaviour."

"You mean Christopher told you to behave!"

"I asked his advice Sir."

"Hhmm, and so you should. He doesn't always get it right though, does he? That's always been his weakness. Act first, think afterwards, when it's too late!"

Piers was stung by the taunting criticism of his Captain. "The Captain is far more experienced than I will ever be. He has to make difficult decisions all the time. I trust his advice. Always!"

"Good, good. That's more like it, some fire in your belly!" the Director's face broke into a smile, even Mike chuckled. "Now, having re-established the basis for our talk, perhaps we can continue on more open and honest terms. I shall call you Piers and you can continue to call me Director, for now. I shall ask you a series of questions. I want your immediate response. Don't think about it, keep it brief. I will ask you to expand if I so wish.

Piers nodded, "Director."

The old man took out his inhaler and took in a couple of deep rasping breaths. "Good, then I will begin. Does your Father know you're gay?"

"Um, no Sir"

"Don't Um or Er Piers! Doe's he or doesn't he? It's a simple enough question!"

"No Sir"

Is your right arm a problem?"

"No, not normally."

"Explain."

It's sometimes hard to control when I'm relaxed. In operational conditions, when I'm fully alert, I'm in complete control."

"Is Captain Redfield a substitute father figure?"

"No Director, he's my partner."

"Expand."

"We complement one another, we are better together than apart."

"How much longer is Captain Redfield capable of active duty?"

"5 years at the current tempo Director."

"What word best describes you relationship with your father?"

"Disappointment."

"What is your opinion of Jake Muller?"

"I. . . I don't trust him."

"Why did you hesitate?"

"He's supposed to be on our side."

"Is it just the sex? Your relationship with Christopher?

"No, it's only a small part, but it does reinforce our bond."

Why did you leave the army?"

"We left each other. I needed a cause, they didn't need an idealist."

"Given, say, a threefold increase in tempo, how long has Captain Redfield got?"

"3 years."

"And you?"

"The same Sir."

"Explain."

"When the Captain retires, so will I."

"Do you trust me?"

"Chris . . . the Captain does. That's good enough for me."

"Tch, I don't care what your Captain thinks on your behalf. Do **YOU** trust me?"

"Not yet Sir, I don't really know you."

"Does Captain Redfield know of your plan to retire simultaneously?"

"No Director."

And so it went on for another 25 minutes. The Director only pausing now and again to mop his brow, or use the inhaler. Piers was sweating too, he hadn't expected such a bewildering array of questions. Keeping pace with the Director was testing his mental capacity to the full. All the while Mike followed slowly in the Range Rover, at a respectful 100 yards behind. Its fat tyres scrunching on the gravelled track that wound beneath the trees.  Just before they got to the house the Director stopped his barrage.

"Thank you Piers, most enlightening, you have been honest and relatively concise. I so dislike wasting time. Christopher was a lot briefer I have to say. But then his world has less shading than yours."

"Director?"

"Hhmm, I think you may call me Dee from now on. Not a word of our conversation to anyone, including Christopher." Piers opened his mouth to speak but the Director held up his hand.

"Discretion dear boy, always discretion; even with your life partner. It's the world we inhabit I'm afraid. One day it will be better. I hope that day comes soon; it is my one desire"

"Yes Dee, I think I understand your sense of urgency. I hope it will be soon too."

The old man stopped to look closely at the young soldier through rheumy eyes. He was silent for a moment, then he spoke softly. "Delightful Piers, delightful! I hope I live to earn your trust. Now, will you lead me in please?"

***********************

Chris greeted the Director and Mike like old friends. But the Director soon indicated he wanted some time alone with Chris.

"Piers, perhaps you would entertain Michael whilst Christopher and I talk? Michael likes guns and killing people." Piers looked somewhat horrified, Mike remained stone faced. "Ah, I jest dear boy, he **loves** guns."

Upstairs, Piers took Mike through Chris' office and unlocked the metal door into his private sanctum. His gun room. They entered and Piers pulled the door to behind him.

"Oh baby, come to your daddy!" Mike cooed.

Piers jumped, "What!"

But Mike was already cradling 'Tophie' in his arms. "Oh yeah, talk dirty to me bitch!"

"Er, I see you've found my anti-material rifle then Mike, it's an awesome piece of kit, 12.7 mm . . . "

". . . bolt action . . . modified rifled barrel . . . 20x Leopold sight, or AN/PVS -31 thermal imager. . . ten rounds in the can" Mike knew the specification by heart. "What I'd have given to have one of these baby's in Beirut!  What's the max kill range?"

The 12.7 x 108 mm rounds start to loose velocity rapidly after 1500 m, I've slotted a BOW at 1700 m, but then I'm the best in the BSAA. I never miss!" Piers grinned, he wasn't boasting, just stating facts.

"Mike laughed, "Yeah, the Boss told me 'bout that. A kill at one and a half clicks, sweeeet!"

"You should come up to our range one day Mike, the next time the Director visits."

"Thank you sir, but when the Boss is out and about, I'm on duty."

"Well, one weekend perhaps, and its Piers to my friends."

"Nah, I'm not very good at that sort of thing Sir. How 'bout I call you El Tee?"

Piers grinned, "Deal Mike, I've been called a lot worse! Um, could you tell me about Beirut . . . ?"

"Only if you set that weekend up El Tee!" Mike sat on the work bench, looking conspiratorial. "Beirut eh? Well, the Boss and I were holed up in a . . ."

Chris took the Director out onto the bedroom terrace without saying a word. Dee grasped the railing and looked down at the Japanese garden.

"Christopher! Words fail me dear boy! It's simply exquisite, set amongst all this bucolic charm." He took in the detail, and then turned to Chris.

"Access?"

"These stairs and a door from the garage, nothing else."

"The wall?"

"The wall is 9ft high, brick on the outside, stone within, it's solid."

"How far are we from the river?"

"About 500 yards, the track winds down from the side of the garage."

"Is it drivable?"

"Not unless you've got a quad bike! There's a small boat house come summer cabin at the bottom with a mooring alongside"

"Will you show me dear boy, via the garage perhaps?" Chris led the way.

They all met up in the kitchen about an hour later. Whilst Piers fixed something to eat and drink for lunch; the Director sat down. He looked a little pale and tired and Mike fussed over him.

"You're not used to this much exercise Boss, and you haven't eaten properly. El Tee, have you got something sweet? His blood sugar level's probably low.

"We've got some raisins," said Piers, "I've heard they're good for hypoglycaemia."

"Perfect, here you go Boss, slowly!"

"Thank you Michael." He patted the former marine's hand. "Where would I be without you?"

"6ft under in Beirut Boss!"

After he recovered, the Director continued his questioning. "Christopher, I want to bring in 2 helicopters here, relatively unobtrusively. Where is the nearest landing spot?"

"Well the base is the obvious place, there's an area not far from the Four of Diamonds gate, away from the main site."

"And don't forget the clearing by the pond," said Piers, "I was up there with Finn and Danny the other week, it's set to grass, big enough for a couple of well flown Blackhawks I'd say."

"I know it." said Chris, "I haven't been there for a while, but your right, decent pilots wouldn't have any problem getting in and out. There's good road access too, a spur from the main track. Alpha team can secure the landing area, and set up a beacon to guide the choppers in for landing. They're all qualified for helicopter ground support ops.

"They will be excellent pilots Christopher; you can be assured of that. Transport, from there to here, for eight say?"

"We've got some M1038 Humvees on the base, the transport version." said Piers, "One will take 8 passengers, no problem."

"Hmm, make it two dear boy. I find that when you don't have the back-up is the time when you need it. Two of your team can drive; I want you two here on arrival, dress uniform. The rest of Alpha team can keep the helicopter crews company and keep away any inquisitive eyes."

"If you want them to be unobtrusive, they should approach from the West, over the river, rather than the base, less conspicuous that way."

"Good point Christopher. The river now, how many Predator drones to secure this area? Oh, say a 10 mile radius around the Deuce of Hearts?"

"A minimum of two, one for top cover, command and control, one to micro manage the river approach, it's the weakest front."

"Excellent, its coming together well." the Director smiled.

"Um, Dee, who exactly is coming, and when?" Chris enquired.

"Christopher, my dear boy, really! When you need to know, I'll tell you. Now, do you have a secure phone here?"

"No Dee." said Piers, mil spec fibre optic, but not secure."

"Then we must change that. Michael, would you be so kind?"

Mike went out to the car then returned a few minute later. "All OK Boss, strong signal too!"

"Good, come with me gentlemen."

The Director sat in the back of the Range Rover and unlocked a compartment between the seats. He lifted out a green phone and dialled a number.

"Col Vincent? It's the Director here . . . do we have a secure phone system available for rapid installation . . . mil spec fibre optic . . .yes . . . who? Burrows! Well he won't be needing that . . . No, I'll tell him myself . . .The Deuce of Hearts . . .Yes, it's Tuesday today, so by Thursday? Good . . . yes, liase with Lieutenant Nivans .. . thank you . . . goodbye."

"Perhaps you would oversee the installation tomorrow Piers? Col Vincent's team will arrive at 09:00."

"With pleasure Dee."

The Director smiled and dialled another number. "Hello, yes it's the Director, BSAA . . . Yes . . ." The Director consulted a small booklet he had taken from the phone compartment. Authentication is Golf Seven Lima, authenticate Hotel Echo Six . . . correct, the Chief of Staff please . . . now if you would be so kind . . . Hello, Dennis?, yes it's Dee . . . reference our discussion . . . yes, Saturday . . .yes, all taken care of . . . two Predators . . . yes, well it would be unfortunate if we couldn't shoot back, wouldn't it, ha, ha! . . . I'll let you have the precise details tomorrow . . . yes, the preferred timings. Thank you . . . yes, please do . . . goodbye Dennis." The Director put the phone back on its cradle.

"There Christopher, 2 Predators as you suggested, and armed. Don't ask me where from, then I won't have to lie."

Mike helped the Director from the car. "Gentlemen, I can make the rest of the calls from the house, then perhaps lunch? Michael will tell me off again if I don't eat at the proper time."

"All taken care of Dee." said Piers, "Just a tuna and pasta salad, is that all right?" He looked to Mike, who nodded.

"No dressing for the Boss." said Mike sternly.

Over lunch the Director quizzed Chris and Piers about Captain Burrows and the incident with Sgt Cortez.

"I've seen your confidential report Christopher, it confirmed my worst fears alas. I should have overseen his appointment myself, but my mind was elsewhere. No matter, I shall resolve the problem now. Do you have his number?"

Certainly Dee, one other thing though, to do with Burrows. Corporal Danny Svenson, late of the military police, I transferred him to Alpha Team, as is my prerogative, but Burrows has sat on the paperwork ever since, he blames an administrative hiccup. Perhaps . . . ?"

"Leave it to me dear boy."

The Director made the call. "Captain Burrows, how lovely to talk to you . . . yes . . . never better . . .Now, two things Steven, first the good news. That posting to Headquarters you wanted . . . yes . . . it's yours . . . Yes, isn't that exciting . . . well . . . as soon as possible. No, not security, something much better . . . yes . . . communications . .. Oh, I know, a much higher profile!"

Chris and Piers looked on in amazement, but the Director put a finger to his lips. "Yes Steven, I'm pleased for you too . . . now the other thing, that old warhorse Redfield keeps pestering me for some paperwork, Corporal Donny Stevenson is it? Oh yes, that's the one . . .what? . . . he is? . . . well good riddance I would say, yes . .. today if you wouldn't mind . . . and headquarters? Say a week? . . . yes . . . time to pack, of course. Oh, I nearly forgot, your secure line, can't be installed right now, but then, you no longer need it . . . yes, quite, ha, ha . . . Thank you Steven, my pleasure , I'll see you soon . . . goodbye."

"Damn it, you've given that asshole a plum job at Headquarters, after the harm he's done here on the base?" Piers couldn't restrain himself, his eyes rolled as he said it.

"Steady Piers, I think I can see the method in Dee's madness, old warhorse or not!"said Chris, giving the Director a wink.

"Ah Christopher, you understand! Piers, my dear boy, this is politics not war, we fight by different rules, you must learn them quickly and Christopher will teach you! Keep your friends close and your enemies closer still. Do you understand?"

Piers nodded, his face still flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "I'm sorry Sir, I apologise, but that man, he just gets under my skin, after what he's done."

"And I completely agree with you dear boy; but listen to me. As our official spokesman, Burrows will be in the public eye, under constant media scrutiny at headquarters. He will have no option but to spout the official BSAA line 24/7. Without access to operational matters his usefulness to his masters, and I suspect he has some, will be finished. He will eventually come to realise that, by which time it will be too late. They will drop him, as I will drop all his recruited help here. We will rid ourselves of this particular cancer at least." He looked pale suddenly and took out the inhaler.

"No reading on the way back Boss" said Mick firmly. "You will sit in the front with me, and you will sleep, or at least pretend to." It was a command, not a request. "El Tee, perhaps we could take a some more raisins, just in case?"

The Director patted his arm affectionately, "Very well Gunny, permit me one last phone call, then we will head for home. I am feeling rather tired."

"Gillian? . . . Dee here . . . Alpha Team . . . as from now it is under my personal orders . . . yes, until further notice . . . no, that's all. Thank you my dear . . . yes, tomorrow then . . . goodbye."

"I haven't heard Jill called that in a long, long time, you always manage to surprise me Dee." Chris laughed.

"Well then Christopher, my most obedient rebel, and Piers, my young idealist, I shall give you both another. In the strictest confidence, your visitor on Saturday is . . ."


	2. Valor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finneson get it on. The visitor is revealed. Plans are discussed. Black Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Finnenson fluff before the mysterious visitor arrives. Some surprises await Chris and Piers. On the Monday after the visit, tragedy strikes.

 

It was early Friday morning, 06:00, and the day before the visit. The sun was about to rise in a cloudless sky. But Finn and Danny had much more earthly concerns . . .

They lay alongside one another, naked, sweat glistening on their bodies. They were still flush from their recent love making. It had been as tender as their two personalities. And as passionate as it could be, given they were trying not to make too much noise. Finn reached above his head and switched on the little bunk light. They rolled onto their sides to face each other; talking in low whispers.

"Now to return the favour." said Finn. He kissed Danny's lips, his neck and that glorious Adam's apple; swathed as ever in the tan shemagh that Piers had given him. Then Finn worked down to Danny's chest and his large nipples, firm and erect. He concentrated on the left one first. It was easier to get at, but it was also Finn's particular favourite. "Because it's closer to your heart." he would say shyly. He softly licked the pale brown areola first, and then sucked gently on the thick pink nipple itself.

"Ohh, mmm, oh yes Finney!" It always turned Danny on. In fact everything Finn did to him turned him on, he had never been so happy since leaving the farm. He was hopelessly in love with the younger Corporal. He had been since that first day they had met on the shooting range.

Finn continued his exploration of Danny's torso, trailing his fingers through the blond chest hair and then on to the golden treasure trail down below. Finn's fingers reached the prominent tan line just above Danny's wiry pubic hair. Finn curled the thick brown hairs around his finger tips.

"Have you always had that tan?" Finn asked intrigued, “I've never had a proper tan. I go red, like a lobster, then I peel, and then I go red again!" Finn grinned as his fingers continued to twirl the luxuriant brown hairs. "It's my Irish blood I think. How do you keep yours topped-up?"

"Hhmm?" Danny enjoyed the warm wave of ecstasy flooding through his groin. "Uh, mmm! Oh, the tan, I've always had one, ever since I can remember. I don't really like clothes; I must be a nature boy at heart. When I was a kid on the farm my brothers and I used to run around all day in shorts and not much else. We always had tans back then. Mine was all over by the time I was thirteen. I would hide up in the big wheat field and lie naked, soaking up the sun. It felt so good, so relaxing. That's where I first jacked off, amongst the wheat and grass. Dreaming of my childhood heroes, like Superman and Captain America. It just sought of happened; I didn't know I was doing it till I looked down. It felt natural, but I couldn't tell anyone, especially Ma and Pa. I'd have got walloped with the belt! Sometimes I'd sneak out of the house at night and do it under the stars. It was wonderful, just me, the smell of the crops and the warmth of the earth, a big yellow harvest moon hanging above."

"That sounds beautiful Dan. We should try it I think, making love under the stars. That would be so romantic."

"Oh yes!" said Danny quietly, "Let's." He kissed the top of Finn's head; then he continued his tale, “And here on the base I was always running, just in shorts. I didn't have any friends, so I ran all the time, to stay fit and to enjoy the woods and the wildlife, to get away from the bullying. I guess I missed the farm and all that fresh air. But oh, I was so lonely!"

"My poor ol' Dan, was that you in the red silkies then?" asked Finn, "I used to see someone in the distance sometimes, running on their own. I didn't know it was you!"

"Yes, that was sad old me. I would see Alpha and the other teams out training, and I'd think, 'They're just like families, they share and do things together, why can't the police section be the same?' But it never was, especially after Burrows arrived."

"Well you've got family now!" said Finn, "A whole bunch of us." He kissed Danny lightly on the lips, and then returned to his detailed exploration.

"Who is it gave you these bruises Dan? They weren't there yesterday!"

"Captain, he's been concentrating on close quarter combat techniques. He doesn't always pull his punches, and I don't want him to. I've got so much to learn."

"He's a good teacher though." said Finn, "He'll always find something to praise, even when you're having a bad day." He sighed. "He's just so awesome!"

"Yeh, he's very fast for such a big man, he can turn and high-kick quick as lightning and his back flip is amazing! Every time I try it I end up on my ass."

"Be careful Dan, I don't want that beautiful booty covered in Captain's bruises as well!"

"Ha, ha! I promise Finney. Anyway, how's your sniper training going? I bet Piers is demanding!"

"Yes, he always expects the best. But this is something he loves doing, so he's much more friendly and considerate. Proper one on one stuff you know. He's already modified a couple of rifles for me, the size of the stock, the position of the grip, the trigger tension. So things are a lot easier now. My kill ratio's gone up to 75%. But sometimes my arms ache so much I think they're going to fall off! And that anti-material rifle! It's surely some beast, yet El Tee always makes it look so easy."

"Best in the BSAA. We're so lucky to be on Alpha - Ouch!" Finn had reached Danny's shoulder, and had touched a red mark at the top of his arm.

"What's that Dan? Another of Captain's 'love taps'?" He examined it more closely.

"Ahh! No, it's where I had my last inoculation. It's still a bit sore. I've got the last one today thank goodness. Then I'm cleared to face all known BOWs and viruses!" He grinned.

Finn chuckled too. "Well it's only a little prick, not like this big ol' boy!" His hand slowly slid down through the rich brown curls to Danny's stiffened member, giving it a playful tug.

"Oh Finney!" Danny let out a soft moan. He reached up and switched out the bunk light . . .

************************

Saturday, 08:30. The two helicopters flew low over the patchwork of fields and woods. Crossing numerous streams and tributaries which eventually wound down to the big river further east and their destination . . .

"Command this is Kittyhawk One, we estimate five zero nautical miles to LZ. Copy?"

"Roger Kittyhawk One, call again at range three zero. Wind at LZ remains light, northerly, visibility fifteen nautical miles." . . .

"Command, Kittyhawks One and Two at three zero nautical miles, heading zero nine zero."

"Kittyhawks, this is Command, you are about to enter a missile engagement zone.  Maintain your present position, squawk IFF mode five, and await positive identification by Horus." (Horus was the call sign for the Command operating the Predator drones high above the Deuce of Hearts. In Egyptian mythology, Horus was pictured as a falcon. A god of the sky, of war and of hunting.)

"Kittyhawk One, Roger that, squawking mode five . . ."

"Kittyhawks, this is Command, you have been positively identified by Horus. You are cleared to enter the MEZ. Continue to squawk mode five. Make your heading zero eight five. Call at ten nautical miles."

"Command, copy that, heading zero eight five, squawking.". . .

"Command, this is Kittyhawk One, estimating 10 nautical miles from LZ, beacon signal poor. Over."

"Roger Kittyhawk One. Contact Alpha Zero Three on Tac Channel seven for final landing instructions. Maintain listening watch on this frequency, call when landing. Command out."

"Thank you Command . . . Alpha Zero Three, this is Kittyhawk One, estimating five nautical miles from LZ. Your beacon signal poor, strength two. Request smoke and LZ weather."

"Kittyhawk One this is Alpha Zero Three, copied. Standby orange smoke. Surface wind zero one zero, six knots. Visibility estimated at twelve miles."

"Ben, get that beacon fixed to the drone and up over the tree line, now! Keep it up wind. Carl, ready orange smoke on my mark." Andy Walker barked out the orders confidently, and the landing party moved smoothly into action. Ben quickly attached the landing beacon to a powerful drone. Within a minute its rotor blades hummed as it climbed above the clearing. "Carl, smoke on .. . now!"

"Alpha Zero Three this is Kittyhawk One, I have your beacon now, adjusting course . . . I see the smoke. Kittyhawks One and Two on final approach.

"Kittyhawks this is Alpha Zero Three, Kittyhawk One take the red smoke marker, Kittyhawk Two take the green marker - you copy?"

Kittyhawk One red, Two green, thanks for the smoke and beacon, you guys are difficult to see down there! . . . Command, Kittyhawks One and Two are landing, please inform Horus."

The two helicopters landed, blowing up some dry grass and dust as they settled. The engines were shut down and the blades slowly stopped rotating; the exhausts on the gas turbines ticking in the chill morning air as they cooled. The two Humvees that had been waiting on the spur from the main track pulled up alongside the choppers. Finn and Danny were driving. Ben and Carl detached a trailer from one of the vehicles, it was a small ground power unit, which they started up and plugged into Kittyhawk One. The lead ship would keep a listening watch on the Command and Horus frequencies for the duration of the visit, the GPU would avoid excessive use of the chopper's own batteries.

As the various passengers disembarked, Finn and Danny opened the rear doors of their vehicles, and stood to attention. Finn looked at the face, which seemed oddly familiar. He saluted, open mouthed. Finn was still saluting when the last passenger had boarded. Still in shock, and still with his mouth agape. The familiar face leaned out of the window and smiled.

"Um, thank you Corporal, I think we're all set to go now . . . If you wouldn't mind?"

Finn woke abruptly from his shocked state. "Oh! Sir, yes Sir. Er, yes, let's go then!"

It was a good job Finn followed Danny's Humvee down the spur and onto the track leading to the Deuce of Hearts. If he had been in the lead he would probably have got lost. 'Was it really him?' He checked in the rear-view mirror to make sure. Corporal Finnbar Macauley grinned, 'Wait till Ma and Da hear about this!' he said to himself.

************************

Chris and Piers had seen the two helicopters fly low over the Deuce of Hearts. They had been silhouetted against the bright and cloudless September sky; their drab grey colour and low visibility markings contrasting with its halcyon splendour.

"They're Air Force, Pave Hawks!" said Chris to Piers. "See the large probe at the front?" He sounded surprised. "I thought they would be Army Blackhawks, this isn't the usual fare for the air force."

"Perhaps the Army's out of the loop on this one Chris. If Dee's behind it there's got to be a good reason. The BSAA and the US Army are not always the best of friends."

"My, you catch on quick Ace, only two meetings with Dee and you're seeing conspiracies everywhere - but you might just be right. We'll know soon enough." Chris smiled at his partner. "Here babe, your collars crooked, there, that's better." Chris pulled at his own collar with large fingers. "Damn, I hate wearing these things and a tie. Ugh! My neck wasn't designed for them! I don't know if I can spend all day dressed up like a stuffed turkey"

"Hey, you look fine Chris. Your neck wasn't designed, it came ready made, built from bone and solid muscle. It always looks good to me! You'll be OK!"

Chris gave Piers a brief hug, "Mustn't crease the BSAA's finest! You look a million dollars babe! Listen, the choppers have landed. He'll be here soon; cap on Lieutenant."

The two Humvees pulled up outside the house.  Six men in cargo pants, plaid shirts and dark glasses disembarked. They fanned out around the vehicles and took up the cardinal points, holsters visible under their hiking jackets. One of them nodded. "Clear."

Chris whispered to Piers. "Well the Secret Service is trying to blend in at least!" Piers had to stifle a laugh. "This is it! . . . Attention, salute!"

The lean brown frame got out of the Humvee. He was as tall as Chris, his short hair turning prematurely grey. Charcoal suit, white shirt and blue tie, the small flag on his left lapel. The President of the United States of America.

He approached the two BSAA officers, smiling broadly.

"Gentlemen," he acknowledged their salutes with a slight bow of the head. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person Captain Redfield, thank you for allowing us to use your home today." He shook hands warmly, a tight grasp, dry, confident.

"Mr President, you do us an honour.  May I introduce my second in command? Lieutenant Piers Nivans."

"Young man, Dee has told me all about you, we are all in you debt." He shook Piers enthusiastically with both hands.

Piers was somewhat taken aback. "Mr President." was all he could say, but he flashed the Nivans smile, albeit a little nervously. 'Control Ace, control!' he thought to himself.

They were joined by the Director, Mike Lugano and two young uniformed and armed Marine Lieutenants, the Presidents aides. One carried a briefcase. The other, and more burly of the two, carried a large Halliburton case, covered in black leather, and from the top of which protruded a stubby radio antenna. The infamous nuclear football which contained the codes and transmitter equipment necessary to launch a nuclear strike. It weighed 20 Kg, but Lieutenant 'Larry' Larsen handled it just like Piers did 'Tophie'. It was all about the balance.

"Christopher dear boy, perhaps you would show the President the rest room upstairs? Then we can all meet on the terrace." Dee motioned the President forward towards the stairs. Two of the agents had already gone inside and 'cleared' the house. They both stood inside, one in the lounge and one on the landing upstairs. Chris thought he should feel mildly irritated at the intrusion, but the President was so engaging, enquiring about the house and its history, that he found he didn't mind at all.

"Piers, my young idealist, you look resplendent, delightful, delightful. Would you lead the way please?"

Mike greeted Piers with a wink, "El Tee, looking very smart today Sir." then he took the Director's arm and followed Piers up the stairs.

Whilst the Director went to the bathroom to freshen up, Mike gave Piers a small bottle. "Some glucose tablets El Tee, in case the Boss feels faint. Try and break your meeting for something to eat, say around 10:30? With your permission I'll fix something up for him in the kitchen."

"Of course Mike, help yourself. And you'll find some jelly donuts in the top left cupboard, you guys might want a snack." He grinned, "They're the Captain's, and I’m trying to wean him off them!"

"You too eh! Older guys are such a worry!" They both laughed. "Oh, El Tee, by the way, lunch is taken care of. I can't say more, another one of the boss’s secrets!" And with that he headed back down the stairs.

Chris had taken the President through the bedroom and out onto the terrace.

"Captain, that is so beautiful. Apart from the Japanese Ambassador's garden in Washington, I don't think I've seen one to match it. Did you build it yourself?

"We both did Mr President, although it was Pier's, er Lt Nivans' idea. We often use it as a place to meditate. Sometimes we need a haven that offers peace and tranquillity, a sanctuary if you will, away from the harsh realities of life."

"I understand Captain, only too well." He touched his greying temple ruefully. "The benefits of high office eh!" May I call you Chris? I usually work first-names with my staff."

"Of course Sir, but you'll forgive me if I defer to your position. It doesn't seem quite right to address the Commander in Chief by his first name!"

"Ah, therein lies the rub. You certainly aren't the first to say that Chris. But this is your home, and your house rules. Dee is just the same."

"Who is just the same Mr President?"

"Dee, you have the eyes and ears of a fox, and twice as much cunning."

"Oh I do hope so Mr President, foxes are hunted you know!"

The president laughed, "Well my old friend, you've excelled yourself today. This is the most perfect venue you've found yet for our clandestine meetings."

Denis McDonough was beside himself when you first came up with the idea. Denis is my Chief of Staff by the way," the president said to Chris and Piers. "My, er, babysitter. He hates me getting off the leash. Even today, low profile visit or not, I have two helicopters, six security agents, two marines . . .”

"And the protection of the best SOU in the BSAA, Alpha Team, if you'll excuse the interruption Sir" said Dee. "I had to remind Denis several times of that fact before he grudgingly let you out of his sight."

"Hmm, I appreciate you and he don't get along, but the tail doesn't always wag the dog. He's on our side Dee, trust me. He's my Mike Lugano. I'm always his first priority."

"Of course Mr President, he's excellent at his job."

It was the first time Chris had seen Dee on the defensive, 'He's worried - this is something big today' thought Chris. He glanced at Piers, 'I hope you can read my mind right now Ace, no time for a lesson in politics!'

The two Marines had remained discreetly in the bedroom. The President called them out onto the terrace.

"Larry, Tom, perhaps you would leave us now. I believe you have an office somewhere Chris?"

"Yes Sir, first left on the landing. The secure phone is installed there; it would be a good place to wait. Piers, perhaps you could show them?"

"Before you go, Tom, pass me my briefcase please, thank you. Larry, I'm not taking any calls, unless it's your box of tricks or the COS. Just pass me a note, I'll decide whether to reply or not. OK?"

"Yes Sir, Mr President." The two Marines saluted smartly and withdrew.

************************

Piers soon rejoined the others out on the terrace. One of the Marines slid the glass doors shut behind him. They sat down around the pine table in the morning light. The trees surrounding the house sheltered them from the breeze, and the sun, now risen above the tree-line, warmed them. The President opened the proceedings.

"To business Gentlemen. Dee, perhaps you'd like to start with an outline of the situation."

"Certainly Mr President. Before I begin I should remind you all that this meeting is classified Top Secret. Our discussions today are not to be communicated in any form to other persons unless under the dual authorisation of the President and myself. You will not make notes unless so authorised."

The Director stopped to take out his inhaler. Two short puffs. 'Was that a pause for dramatic effect?' wondered Piers. Dee continued.

"I believe the BSAA is under imminent threat of attack on a worldwide scale. I believe the aim of these attacks is to specifically eradicate the BSAA as an organisation. These attacks may, or may, not involve elements of biological warfare. However, it is my belief they will consist of a mix of both conventional and bio-terrorism. I believe that old and new enemies of the BSAA have coalesced under a single leader. As yet, that leader remains unidentified. Questions?"

The President remained silent. It was Chris who spoke first.

"Dee, there's a lot of 'belief' there. I trust your instincts one hundred percent, but is there hard evidence to back it up?"

"Yes dear boy there is, though as yet,much more remains circumstantial. Let me explain. For the last twelve months we have seen a slight, but measurable, diminution in bio-terrorism attacks. Spreading out from one location, like a ripple on a pond. Ultimately affecting the whole globe."

"And that location is?" asked Piers.

"I cannot tell you that yet. The President knows, but we are both of the opinion that it should remain a secret for now. Even from you." The President nodded in agreement.

"You think you have a leak at that level?" said Chris, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Ah, Christopher, astute as ever dear boy. Yes, you may assume that. But to continue. The ripple analogy leads us to suspect that this central point is the source of all these worldwide reductions. We can clearly see the gradual formation of a sphere of influence that now encompasses the globe. That gives us our timing. The ripple completed its progress last month. There is nowhere else for it to go. Therefore it would seem logical that a new phase of operation is about to begin. Much of our information comes in the form of HUMINT, human derived intelligence. It is, by its nature, somewhat circumstantial. Impressions, reactions, body language. They are a valuable source of information to HUMINT agents, but can sometimes be misinterpreted. ELINT, electronic intelligence also plays its part. Intercepts, business transactions, logistics. All can leave traces, or patterns, that when properly analysed, reveal larger scale movements otherwise hidden. All these pieces of the jigsaw suggest a turning point has now been reached."

"Director, you mentioned old and new enemies have coalesced. Can you be more specific?" asked Chris

"I'll answer that one Dee if I may." said the President. "Chris, you know that the 'family' remains active. That Neo-Umbrella has never conclusively been shown to be finished. Dee and I believe that these two organisations form an old-guard element in the new bio-terror grouping. In addition to the agents run by Dee and the Federal Government, I have conducted my own enquiries through trusted members of my personal staff. What I am about to tell you causes me great pain. You are probably aware that the US Military has been a less than enthusiastic supporter of my Presidency.  Less so in the immediate aftermath of the death of President Benford; when I first assumed office. But since winning my own mandate, there has been a growing criticism of my lack of a service background, by the Army in particular. In the corridors of the Pentagon, this undercurrent has occasionally been vocalised and specific. The Army has never been happy with existence of the BSAA, or its predecessor STARS."

"Does that explain your choice of carrier today Mr President? asked Piers.

"Exactly. My sources, and the gut reaction I get from some of my own meetings with the military, lead me to believe that there is now an active element of opposition to the BSAA within the Army of the United States. Quite frankly, the Navy is not that interested in bio terrorism. And the Air Force has no clearly defined role. Dee and I consider both services disinterested, or at the least impartial. The Army however, sees it's funding siphoned offto the UN and thence to the BSAA. It feels it's losing out on both money and valuable publicity. We believe these army elements form the new-guard in this revitalised bio-terror grouping. Dee has advised me, and reluctantly I have agreed with him, that I cannot tackle these military elements head on. My position, with both houses against me, and a hostile military, is not a good one. Dee believes, and again I have to agree with him, that the best approach is to let these element continue to grow, until their very boldness will expose them for what they are to the government and to the people."

Chris and Piers looked at one another in shock. The most powerful man on earth hamstrung by a democratically elected government and a disloyal military. Chris prayed that Piers wouldn't mention the word 'irony'!

"Dee, you said this new organisation was headed by a single unidentified person. Do you have any evidence of that? Some idea of who it is?" Chris looked directly at the Director. 'Come on you old fox, throw me a bone here.' he thought.

Dee returned Chris' gaze steadily through his rheumy eyes. "The way this new grouping has so rapidly organised itself suggests a single person at the head rather than a committee, or council." I . . .we, have not identified that person as yet."

"But you have some candidates in mind?" Chris pushed Dee for a response.

"I'm afraid not Chris." It was the President who replied. "Let's concentrate on what we do know first . . ."

The meeting continued until Piers suggested a coffee break, he was conscious of Mike's request. Chris and Piers talked in the garden.

"I'm not sure why we're involved." said Piers. "I can't see we have much to contribute."

"Well, for one thing, we're a sounding board, for both of them. They're rehearsing their positions and lines prior to the real action. Next, I don't think we've heard everything yet. The President wouldn't be here just for a 2 hour chat. But why don't you ask them. You need to be involved, and it's not an unreasonable question."

"You mean be the fall guy!' Piers laughed.

"No babe, that's my job!" said Chris, grinning. "Dee is being quite defensive today, with the President and with me. Something's troubling him. You asking that question might give him just the excuse he needs to open up."

"About what?"

"Ask, and we might find out.". . .

************************

During the break, Mike fussed over the Director while the President replied to a couple of messages Tom had brought him. They resumed their discussions at 11:00.

Piers took a controlled breath, then asked his question.  "Mr President, Director, what exactly is Captain Redfield's and my role in all of this? This world of intelligence gathering and politics isn't usually the remit of an SOU."

The President grinned, and indicated for Dee to answer.

"Piers, dear boy, what a delightful question, and one I expected sooner. Both you and Christopher are part of the jigsaw the President and I are attempting to piece together. Let me explain. I have told you that we have analysed our data and seen definite patterns in it. The bigger picture. But we have also seen some singular occurrences. One concerns the pair of you. Only the North America branch of the BSAA has been infiltrated by sympathisers to this new grouping. You have seen the effects of Captain Burrows' attacks on both individuals and general morale. He has recruited assiduously. A bunch of bullies and bigots have held sway in the security section. I have also told you I believe he is controlled externally. He doesn't have the wit to organise something on this scale by himself. It was my mistake to let it happen in the first place, but once it had, it was better to let him think he had succeeded, to let down his guard. This he has done, through the intervention of Sergeant Cortez, though how he fits in I have not yet discovered. This pattern is unique. It seems to be have two aims, a general lowering of morale, and personal attacks, on the pair of you. I think this new grouping has specifically targeted you both."

"I can think of lots of people who'd like to see us gone." said Chris ruefully, surely you don't need a list?"

"Christopher dear boy, that won't be necessary, it was one of the first things I drew up when I saw the analyses. Unless, of course, you have made some new enemies this week?"  They all laughed.

"Surely that list would provide clues as to who may be heading up this new organisation?" said Piers.

"Oh, yes, certainly it would point to potential members, and we have agents in the field seeking out such connections.  But your removal would only be a means to an end, not, we believe, the end itself. Whoever the head is, they would be foolish indeed to be so obvious and hence risk becoming identified. I don't think they are foolish. I think they are in deadly earnest. No dear boy, the point is you and Christopher are much feared by our enemies, your success demonstrates that. It is quite natural that they should seek to remove such a threat. It would bring immediate benefits to their aims, and deal the morale of the BSAA a deadly blow.

"So what can we do?" said Piers, "We lead by example, we can't go into hiding. That would damage morale just as much."

"That, Gentlemen," said the President, "Is what we are about to discuss."

************************

The meeting continued for another two hours, various options where discussed, tentative plans made. Analyses were re-checked, projections charted. At the end, Chris and Piers were presented with summaries of the information the Director and President had outlined.  Dee took them out of his briefcase.

"You will have to sign for these dear boys." he said. "Do not take them onto the base. Keep them in your office safe please Christopher, next to that convenient gun room."

"I understand Dee." Chris grinned.

The President stood up, and as if by magic, the two Marines appeared on the terrace. "Gentlemen, before we take lunch, I would appreciate your presence in that beautiful garden of yours. Tom, bring me the other case please."

The tall young Marine handed the President a small square case, covered in dark brown leather and embossed with the great seal of the United States.

"Would you stand here please? By the tree." The President indicated the spot. He stood facing them, with Dee and the 2 Marines behind him.

Chris and Piers looked at one another perplexed. It was embarrassingly reminiscent of a wedding ceremony. They both had the same thought.

The President turned to the Director. "Would you hold this whilst I open it Dee?"

"With pleasure Mr President." He held the box up whilst the President opened the lid to reveal a white satin lining. On it nestled two star shaped golden medals, attached to light blue ribbons.

"Gentlemen, this is something I should have done 3 years ago, I hope you will forgive me for being otherwise occupied. It is not often the Congress and I agree."The President chuckled, "Not often at all. But this is one thing we have found agreement on. These awards are, after all, issued in the name of Congress. Part of the deal with them was that this should be a low-key ceremony. Your names will appear in the Congressional gazette as retired Air Force and Army Officers, there will be no mention of the BSAA. Normally, we would have a formal ceremony in the White House, attended by both family and former recipients. We would then retire for a rather pleasant lunch. So I have brought your "family' here." He indicated the terrace where all the members of Alpha Team stood watching. Finn gave a thumbs-up. "And as I speak, agents of the Security Service are unpacking some hampers I prevailed upon the White House Kitchen to provide. I have some influence there at least." Everybody laughed.

"First, the serious part." said the President. The Congressional Medal of Honour is awarded for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty. Today, these two medals are awarded by a grateful President on behalf of a grateful nation, and if it did but know it, a grateful world. The five-pointed star of this medal is suspended from a bar. It bears one word, VALOR. That single, simple word conveys the truth behind these awards."

"Captain Christopher Redfield." The president stood behind Chris and placed the light blue neck ribbon holding the medal around his neck. "Damn, that's some neck you've got here Captain. Dee told me I'd need a longer ribbon."

"Some say it's my best feature Sir." Chris winked at Piers.

The President walked around and grasped Chris' right hand. "Well done soldier!"

"Thank you Mr President. May I accept this honour on behalf all those who didn't make it back?"

"Damn right you can Chris. Wear it with pride!"

"Lieutenant Piers Nivans." The President placed the ribbon around Piers' neck and adjusted the position of the five-pointed star hanging from it. "Our Lord said 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' The Lord saw fit to bring you back to us Lieutenant."

"I'd do it all over again Mr President. For the BSAA, for my Captain.

"Let's pray you don't have to Piers." He didn't shake Piers by the hand, but grasped his right arm with both his hands. "Is it OK son?" he asked quietly.

"Yes Sir Mr President, never better!"

"Good, good. You're going to need it!"

Alpha Team clapped and cheered, The President waved them down to the garden. "Larry, Tom, get those cameras out, these two heroes want some pictures! Then it's lunch on the White House. The rest of you just remember. You haven't seen me. I wasn't here. I know you’re all happy right now, but please respect the secrecy later. Thank you all for excellent work today. I appreciate it. Dee, can I escort you in to lunch, or will Mike leap out and attack me for stealing his job?"

The Director laughed, "Perhaps it would be better Mr President, if I escorted you!"

************************

After lunch the President asked Chris and Piers to join him in the garden, alone. He held a large manila envelope in his hand.

"Gentlemen, you have received your country's highest award. It is a powerful symbol of our nation’s values, not given to many." He paused. "But it doesn't pay the bills, or provide for the future." He tapped the envelope against his left palm. "This, on the other hand, does. Last week I signed an executive order. It passes the title of the lands bounded by BSAA boundary fence and the river to you, some 980 acres in total. There are some codicils attached, rights of access for the BSAA, sharing of utilities. Nothing restrictive. There are also some commercial rights concerning the use of the river, small scale lumber work. In short, enough freedom for the land and river frontage to provide a good commercial income. Your former landlord gave you a glowing reference by the way. As a former lawyer, I would strongly recommend this to my clients. What do you say boys?

"I'd say I'm speechless Mr President. This is totally unexpected. What do you think Piers?"

"I'd say where do we sign? It would, after all, be rude to question an executive order from the CINC!"

"Good, then let's do that before I leave. Dee can witness it. And thank you gentlemen, once again for the privilege of sharing your home and this most beautiful garden. Perhaps, when all this is over, I can come and visit again?"

"It would be an honour Mr President. Let's hope it's soon."

************************

After the President and his entourage had left, Chris and Piers returned to the house. It seemed suddenly empty now it was just the two of them again.

"First of all I'm getting out of this damned shirt and tie." said Chris, clawing at his starched collar, then I need a drink, or two. How 'bout you babe?"

"It still seems like a dream, pinch me, I might wake up - Ouch! I meant figuratively!"  Piers rolled his eyes.

Ha, first one today! said Chris, grinning. "You must have been dying to do that when Finn put his arm around the President. I thought Tom and Larry were going to jump him!"

"Yeah, good thing Danny got there first, gotta' keep the Marines on our side!"

"Come on Ace, let's change and have that drink, then a quiet night perhaps. Anything else today would be an anti-climax."

"Are you sure about that? I could put on my best smile and very little else!"

"Oh, could you now? Just because you've come into property, you think you can turn a Captain's head?"

"Get a couple of scotches inside me and who knows what I'll turn!"

"Grrr!"

"Woof!"

************************

Sunday 07:30. Soon the sun would peek through the trees but for now the Deuce of Hearts lay in shade . . .

Piers lay on the bed, his hands behind his head. He smiled as Chris walked in naked from the wet room. Chris lay down next to Piers and turned to face him, propping himself up on one large elbow. His other hand caressed the sniper's belly.

"Have you thought about Dee's plan Ace?"

"I'm trying not to. There's a lot to consider, and there are things we need to discuss together. Our commitment to Alpha, the BSAA. Our future together. I won't make any decisions on my own. We'll do it as partners, there's no alternative." But before that I just need to get things straight in my own mind. Give me a couple of days, please?

"I'm here for you babe, I've got your six, always, whenever and whatever we decide."

"Then let's leave it for now Chris. Let's just enjoy what's left of the weekend, making mad, passionate love . . . with some eating in between perhaps!" Piers cocked his head to one side and flashed a smile.

"Hhm, talking of eating, where are my donuts?"

"In between your dolegs - agh, no, that tickles! He, he, stop, ow, Christopher! Ruff will hear us, uff! Right, that's it . . . my turn . . .!

************************

On Monday the sky became grey and sullen, filled with dark billowing clouds. The first big weather front of the autumn had arrived . . .

The bomb hidden in Finn's room went off precisely at 07:00. The blast took out the corner of the building, starting a small fire. A few minutes later there was a partial collapse of the three-storey block. At the emergency muster point there were four confirmed injuries. Finn Macauley and Danny Svenson were missing from the roll call.

Chris and Piers hadn't heard the explosion. The sound didn't penetrate the encircling woods. They got a call at 07:15 from Andy Walker with the news. Chris staggered with the information, his head spinning. 'This couldn't be happening, not here, not after . . . ' He sought to regain control of his emotions.

"Piers, to me, now!" He shouted out. Piers came running down the stairs.

"Chris! You're as white as a sheet! What's happened?"

"There's been an explosion on the base, Finn and Danny are missing, come on, let's go."

Piers swiftly put Ruff into his run in the yard; quickly ensuring he had food and water, then he sprinted to the front of the house where Chris was already gunning the engine of his truck. They set off for the Four of Diamonds gate, Chris slewing the truck around the bend, kicking up dust and gravel as he cut the corner.

Piers got on the phone to Andy. "Andy, we're on our way, what's the latest?"

"The fire is out now. The rescue crews are checking the integrity of the building before we can start searching."

"Any sign of Finn and Danny?"

"I'm sorry El Tee, the explosion seems to have been in Finn's room. Then the roof collapsed." Andy choked back a sob, "Sir, it doesn't look good!"

"We'll be there in 5. Try and get that search started Andy."

"What's happening Piers? Tell me damnit!"

Piers quickly recounted Andy's info. Chris thumped his hands on the steering wheel. "Fuck building integrity, we're starting that search as soon as we get there. These are our boys we're talking about. I'll go through that fucking rubble with my bare hands if needs be!"

They were passed through the emergency gate quickly by the two guards. The main gates had already been closed and the base was now on lock-down. The truck screeched to a halt outside the barracks. Chris barrelled his way through the surrounding soldiers to the scene of the explosion.

"Has the search started?" he asked the rescue squad leader.

"Not yet Captain, we're just . . ."

"Then it begins now man, either help me, or get the hell out of my way!"

"Do as he says Lieutenant." said Piers, "You can worry about procedures later." Piers had spotted Andy and Ben amongst the watchers. "Alpha Team on me . . !"

************************

Robin Ellis reversed his car down the drive and into the street. As he selected 'drive' and moved forward, the mercury in the tilt switch ran through the tube and completed the circuit. At the moment he raised his hand to wave goodbye to his family, the bright white light erupted through the floor of the car, turning into an orange fireball as it swelled and engulfed the vehicle.

Mary, Robbie and Becky watched it happen as if in slow motion, their world slowly disintegrating before their eyes. Only Robbie saw the red motorbike stop across the street, then disappear rapidly, speeding up through the gears, 'whazz, whazz, crackle . . .'

************************

"Lieutenant, over here."

The soldier pointed down to something under the fallen concrete. Piers reached through the tangled masonry, stretching his finger tips to reach it. He held it in his hand. A piece of cloth, tan, flecked with green, torn and bloodied. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wasn't easy to write!


	3. Alpha to Omega (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 - In the immediate aftermath of the bombings, Piers struggles to hold his Captain together. Colonel Jill Valentine arrives on the base and Piers finds himself in another battle to protect Chris.

 

Piers almost threw-up as he handled the piece of tan cloth. He had to use all his mental and physical control to fight the rising tide of bile that surged through his gut. His first thoughts were of Danny. He never went anywhere without the shemagh Piers had given him when he joined Alpha Team. Suddenly the image of a blood stained BSAA badge flooded his vision, superimposed on the bloodied piece of material he held in his hand. 'I'm sorry . . . Captain . . . I did it for the BSAA . . . Yes, always . . . a reminder of us Piers.' For a moment the two memories merged and filled his mind.

"What is it Piers? Piers!"

Piers dragged his mind back to the present. 'Suck it up Piers, you are in control, breathe in, breathe out - that's it, get a grip on yourself!'

"Huh? . . . Er, it's Danny's, a piece of his shemagh. He can't be far away!" He tried to listen . . .

"Shh, quiet!" Piers ordered. "Everyone keep very quiet!"

He bent his head down into the void amongst the rubble. He told himself to block out the background noise, the shuffling of boots and murmurs of the surrounding soldiers, just like he did when taking a difficult shot. 'Concentrate, focus. His ears strained at first, but then came stillness, an intense silence, enforced by his will. There! To the left. A sigh? Breathing?'

"Danny? Finn? Can you hear me?" The sigh again, a movement?

"El Tee . . . is that you? It's Finn, Dan's here . . . he feels cold. Help him . . . please!"

Chris had joined Piers now, one arm around his partner as he knelt down on the edge of the hole.

"Finn, It's Captain, we're gonna' get you out very soon. Don't worry son; keep talking to Piers, you're both safe now."

Chris didn't know if that would be so or not, it didn't matter right now. 'Give them hope, Chris, these are your men.' he told himself.

"Lieutenant, they're about five feet below this beam, it's pinning everything else down. Get that crane; put a couple of large slings on it. I'll raise this end myself." Chris beckoned to get the driver's attention.

The young Lieutenant in charge of the rescue squad galvanised his men, as the boom of the crane swung over to where Piers knelt. Chris climbed under the beam and put his shoulder to it. "Now Piers! Get those slings under the beam!" Chris's face contorted in pain as his massive shoulders took the weight. He grunted as he pushed his whole body upwards. His legs straightening slowly as he raised one end of the beam.

"Gnhh! Now damn it, now Piers!" The veins on his forehead and neck bulged, as the blood rushed through them to fuel his straining muscles.

Piers took the two slings dangling from the hook and quickly ducked under the beam.

Chris felt himself buckling. "Aghh, nng!" 'No, not yet, one more push Chris' he willed himself, screaming in pain. Piers looked up, frightened.

"Chris, hang on babe, just a few seconds! Piers looped the slings around the beam and back up to the hook.

Take it up, now, get the fucking thing up!" Piers yelled to the operator. The webbing took the strain and slowly the beam rose. Chris fell to his knees, gulping in deep lungfuls of air, his face red and streaked with sweat. Piers scrambled to his side. Are you OK Chris? That was outstanding!"

"Gnh! Never mind me Ace, let's get our boys out, now!" . . .

************************

"Blankets, quickly!"  Both Finn and Danny were naked when they were pulled from the rubble. Danny was still unconscious, his breathing shallow and erratic. He had thrown himself over Finn when the explosion happened; and his broad back had taken the brunt of the collapsing masonry. There was a bloody wound on the back of his head. Finn had remained conscious throughout the rescue, although suffering from injuries himself. But all he could think of was Danny.

"Is Dan OK El Tee? He felt so cold, will he be alright?"

Piers sought to reassure him. "Don't worry Finn, he'll be fine, just a bump on the head. Let's get you both to the hospital; you're safe now, alright?"

One of the benefits of the funding of the BSAA by the pharmaceutical industry was its fully equipped hospital, specialising in the trauma injuries as well as the viral infections that resulted from typical SOU operations. The two Corporals were stretchered off. Danny remained face down; the paramedics preferring not to turn him. His head and neck were immobilised by a temporary neck brace. Piers bent down into the hole, now made larger by the rescue. He reached down and gently pulled the remains of the shemagh out, Danny's talisman. Piers hoped to God it had worked.

He found Chris, his face caked with grime, his eyes dark and hooded. His beloved Captain had led the rescue effort, tearing at chunks of brick and concrete with his bare hands. Hands which now bled, and, Piers noted, trembled.

"C'mon Captain, let's get you tidied up as well, there's a Medic here."

Chris remained silent, remote, as the medic cleaned the wounds and applied some bandages.  Piers thanked the man on Chris' behalf when he finished. He tried to clean Chris' face with a medical wipe but got pushed away.  Piers gripped his Captain's arm firmly and led him away from the scene. He noticed the thousand-yard stare on his Chris' face.

"Chris, snap out of it! They're both alive, you saved them, almost single handed."

"Was that meant for us? A warning? Is this all because of me!" Chris spoke slowly. He looked at Piers as if pleading to be told it wasn't so.

"We don't know anything for sure yet Chris, you can't blame yourself. We'll find out what happened soon enough. Let's go check on Finn and Danny."

But before they could leave, Pete Carter, the recently promoted Lieutenant from Bravo Team came running up. He looked pale, in shock. His voice trembling with emotion.

"Captain Redfield . . . Piers. I've found you at last! I'm sorry; there's been another explosion . . . off base, about an hour ago. It's Captain Ellis, he's . . . he's been killed, a car bomb. That's all we know, I'm so sorry, he was a good man . . . a fine Captain."

Piers felt Chris grasp his arm. Even cut and torn, his fingers still gripped like a vice.

"No, he can't be! He's my oldest friend."

"I'm sorry Sir; the message came from Colonel Valentine. She's on her way from Command now, by chopper. She should be here in an hour or so."

Chris' chest heaved, he let out a single sob and then his broad shoulders sagged. Piers braced himself as he took his Captain's weight. He led Chris away from the crowd and sat him on a low wall.

"Are you two OK?" asked Pete, "Look, I can't stay, I'm sorry, I've got to go and let the rest of Bravo know."

Piers nodded, "Of course. Have you spoken to Mary Ellis since it happened?"

"No, not yet. I don't know if anyone here is in touch with the Captain's family. People are running around like headless chickens in Ops and Security."

"Right, leave it to us then. Chris and I will take care of that, you let the team know."

Thanks Piers, I'm sorry Captain." He held Piers' arm briefly, then ran off back towards the barracks.

"Hang in there Pete!" Piers called out after him.

"Oh Fuck, I don't understand what's happening Piers, I never . . .” Chris ran his hands through his matted hair. His chest heaved and another deep sob escaped his throat. Then he became still. The thousand-yard stare returned.

"Chris, Chris, look at me! It's Piers, c’mon; don't give up on me now damn it."

Sad brown eyes looked up. "Piers?"

"Yes, it's Piers. Chris you need to stay focussed, you hear me? We can't do anything for Danny or Finn right now; the docs will look after them. We should go to Mary and the kids, OK?"

"Yes . . . you’re right . . . Mary. He would want that, he was my friend you know?"

"Yes babe, I know. Can you stand? Good, let's get going now. One last push Chris, for Rob's sake."

Chris processed the information. Slowly he began to think through the shock, to regain some control over his emotions. "Piers . . . ring Lieutenant Casey, er, Susie I think her name is. Tell her to meet us at Rob's house. Tell her to get Mary and the kids . . . to get them ready. They can't stay there can they? No, we'll bring them here . . . they can have my suite in the mess. I still have that don't I?"

"Yes Chris, you do. And that's a good idea. I'll call Susie; she'll know what to do. Piers phoned the Welfare Officer and gave her directions to the house.

"OK Susie, get going straightaway . . . yes we'll be there soon after . . . Bye."

Someone came up and offered coffee from a thermos. It was Sergeant Walker.

"I thought you might need this Sirs. It's, er, got a little something in it."

"Thanks Andy, here you go Captain, I'll hold it for you." Piers knew Chris wouldn't be able to hold the cup himself with his bandaged hands. He put the cup to Chris' lips. When Chris had finished, Piers had a small sip himself, then he drew Andy to one side.

"Have you heard about Captain Ellis?

"Yes El Tee, I just met some of the guys on Bravo. What in hell is happening? We've never had this sort of attack before. Do you know what's going on?"

"No more than you Andy, rumour control will kick in soon I expect. Just keep Ben and Carl on their toes, be vigilant for more attacks. Chris and I are going to pick up Captain Ellis' family now. Colonel Valentine is on her way from HQ, I'm gonna be tied down pretty much all day I expect. I'll try and catch up with you all later. In the meantime keep your heads down and stay alert."

"What about Finn and Danny Sir?"

"Let the Docs do their job for now, but they'll want clothes and stuff sometime. I don't know if there's anything to salvage from the barracks. The FBI will be crawling all over the place soon. See what you and Ben and Carl can rustle up. Anything needed for a long stay in hospital."

"Leave it to me El Tee, we're family." He looked back at Chris, then turned to Piers. "Watch him Sir, I've seen that look before, in Edonia, just after we got bushwhacked, remember?"

"Don't worry Andy, I've got his six. Thanks for the whiskey, interesting, coffee flavoured!"  He grinned as he returned Andy's salute, then went back to Chris.

"All fit? This way Chris, the truck's just over there." . . .

************************

By the time they got to Rob and Mary's house a white tent had already been erected over the remains of Rob's car. FBI forensic agents were donning sterile white over-suits, prior to combing the area for evidence. A throng of media vehicles and onlookers had already gathered; surrounding the front of the house. On the drive over Chris had remained largely silent as he fought to come to terms with the news. By the time they arrived he was thinking more clearly.

"Look at those fucking Vultures!" he said; then he spotted the Sheriff who'd toured the base a few weeks ago. "Stop here Piers, then park-up around the back. I won't be long." Chris jumped out of the truck, pushing a camera and microphone away from his face. He found the Sheriff.

"Captain Redfield, dreadful business, I'm sorry. Can I help?"

Yes Sheriff, I'm taking Mrs Ellis and the children back to the base. My trucks around back, can your men keep these vermin away please?"

"Sure Captain, anything to help. I'm not sure if the FBI have finished with their questions though."

Chris scowled. "I'm not asking for their permission. I'm taking Mary and the kids away from this place, now! You understand?"

The Sheriff sensed the big man was in no mood for an argument. And besides, he sympathised. He had no particular love for the FBI either. "Sure Captain, I'll get the boys to keep the road clear. Good luck!"

Chris barged through the crowd besieging the house, his eyes focussed only on the front door. Susie Casey had been watching through the hall window. She opened the door just as he got there; then quickly closed it behind him.

"Captain, we're all ready here, I've packed some gear for them, clothes, bits and pieces. We've got some toys, their dog. Enough for three or four days."

"Thanks Lieutenant. Can you take the bags and stuff? I'll take Mary and the kids. I'll see you in the officer's mess when we get back."

Susie nodded. "They're in the lounge Sir, I told them you were coming. It's the only time she's smiled. They're all in shock."

"Thank you." He tried to smile himself, but found he couldn't.

"Chris? Thank God it's you!  The Lieutenant said you were coming. What's happened? Why Rob, what's he done? Chris . . .” She broke down, the children clinging to her. They were crying too, their faces pale, scared.

He knelt down and held them all in his arms. "Oh Mary, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry! Forgive me!" He didn't know what else to say . . .

Mary and the children got in the back of the truck; Robbie was holding Poochie tight to his chest. Becky still clung to her mother.

"Get out of here Piers, fast." The line of police parted to let the truck through as it sped away, and then it closed again. The press didn't follow.

As they drove back to the base a red off-road bike overtook them, changing noisily through the gears 'whazz, crackle crackle.' For the first time Robbie spoke.

"It's him again Uncle Piers, the bike that was outside our house this morning, one like yours. It was here last week, when Becky couldn't sleep, I remember that noise. It's the same one, I know it."

The rider had slowed briefly to look into the truck as he passed. Piers saw nothing but his own reflection in the black visor pulled down over the rider's face. As Piers slowed for a red light the bike roared off, jumping the light and disappearing into the distance.

'Damn it.' thought Piers, but this was no time to start a chase. He looked at Chris, but he didn't respond, his eyes focussed on some faraway point. The sniper knew how sharp Robbie's senses were. If he said it was the same bike, then it was. A red Husqvarna 250 two-stroke, red helmet with a white stripe, matching leathers. The number plate was obscured by mud. Piers memorised the details. "OK Robbie, I've got him noted. Let's get you all to the mess for now. We'll check that bike out later."

As they approached the base, Robbie leaned forward and tapped Chris on the shoulder. Chris was startled, his mind had been elsewhere.

"Are you going to be our new daddy Uncle Chris?"

"Uh, no one can replace your father Robbie. Chris spoke slowly, gently. He swallowed hard. "I'm going to be your favourite Uncle, and so will Piers."

"Yes sir, thank you."

"Attaboy kiddo. Let's get you to your new home. And promise me you'll look after your mom and Becky?"

"Yes Uncle Chris, I will."

"Good man! Look, here we are."

"Bless you Chris." It was only the second time Mary had smiled that morning. "You will find them, the people who . . . ?"

"Oh yes Mary, whatever it takes. Trust me!"

************************

In the hospital Danny Svenson had first been x-rayed; and then rushed straight to the emergency operating theatre. It was Danny who had borne the brunt of the impact as the building collapsed. Aside from multiple fractures to his arms and legs; he had also suffered a collapsed lung, caused by a broken rib. Fortunately the head injury seemed superficial, and the brain appeared undamaged. Nor was there any sign of a cervical fracture. However, following the emergency surgery he had been placed in an induced coma and put on a mechanical ventilator. This would avoid stressing his respiratory system during his initial recovery. It was also a precautionary measure to reduce his brain pressure. This would minimise any potential damage to his brain from the head injury; should that prove to be more serious than first thought. The remaining fractures would be treated as his condition stabilised and improved.

Danny also had strength and youth on his side. And he had Finn. Both of Finn's feet had been broken, and he had suffered a couple of cracked ribs, but the rest of his body was remarkably intact. He had to undergo a reduction on his left foot, where the ends of the broken bone were re-aligned, and then both feet were immobilized in casts. He would be in plaster for a month, possibly two.

Before the time Piers arrived later in the morning, Finn had already got his wheelchair positioned by the side of Danny's bed. Aside from the large breathing tube in his throat, Danny was attached by a plethora of tubes and wires performing monitoring and vital functions. Blood pressure, anaesthetic, food, urine, vital signs. Finn held Danny's left hand and talked to him. Even though unconscious, there was much evidence to suggest that patients in induced comas could hear people talking around them. And if Finn was good at anything, it was talking!

"Oh Danny boy! That was some experience! Our first time under the stars and we ended up seeing them! You protected me you know, like you felt the bang before you heard it. I thought you were being passionate, ha . . . agh, I can't laugh too much. I'm all strapped up you know. You're gonna' be fine Dan. I'm not leaving your side for a moment, you hear." He squeezed Danny's hand a little as he said it. "Not too much now Dan or you'll light up like a Christmas tree on these monitors!"

************************

Chris and Piers got Mary and the children settled into the suite. It took most of the morning. Later on Mary took the kids for a nap. Chris sat guard outside the bedroom door, brooding, silent. Piers put a hand on his shoulder.

I think I'll go and check on Danny and Finn. Will you be alright Chris?"

"Fine, you go. I'll stay here. Rob wouldn't want them to be left alone."

"Sure babe, I’ll ask Susie to drop by here on my way. Mary could probably do with some female company for a while."

"Thanks. Tell them I'll visit them later. I want to see Mary properly settled here first."

Piers kissed Chris gently on the head. "Look after yourself too babe. It wouldn't hurt for you to rest as well. Hopefully I won't be too long, but if Colonel Valentine is on her way; she'll be wanting answers to a lot of questions. I'll try and keep you out of it. I'll call if there are any problems, OK?"

"Alright, I'd rather not see her or anyone right now. I need some time alone, to think." Chris closed his eyes.

Piers looked at his partner in concern. He'd seen these symptoms before. The vague, distant look, the stilted conversation. Piers knew that Chris was on the brink of a PTSD attack. He would have to protect him at any cost, from Jill Valentine of all people.  As he made his way to the hospital his phone rang.

"No . . . he's very busy, he can't be disturbed . . . Yes . . .alright . . . I'll be there straight away."

************************

Earlier Jill Valentine had installed herself in the main briefing room on the floor above Chris' office in the headquarters building. She set to work straight away, placing the sheet listing the meetings she required on the desk in front of her. Her aide from Command sat in the adjacent office. Jill pressed the intercom.

"I'll start with the SOU Captains; Hotel Team first . . ."

For the next hour and a half Jill worked her way down the list, interviewing each Captain in turn. When it came to Bravo Team she spoke to Peter Carter. It was obvious that he was too inexperienced to command the team. She made some notes in the margin of the list once he'd left. She looked at the next item and pressed the intercom again.

"Get me Captain Redfield now please."

She wasn't sure if she looked forward to seeing her old partner or not. They had such a shared history, but her promotion and move to Command had tested their friendship. She knew she was more than capable of holding down the position of Director, Operations. But she also knew that Chris was as well. That by rights he should also be a Colonel. She had never fully understood his reasons for preferring to remain a Captain, and to stay on operations. She wondered if it was a means of keeping a distance between them. And then a certain Piers Nivans had arrived on the scene and things hadn't been quite the same since.

The intercom interrupted her thoughts. "Captain Redfield appears to be unavailable Ma'am. I've contacted Lieutenant Nivans and asked him to report in the Captain's place."

Damn! Already she was going off-script! "Thank you; send him straight in when he arrives." 'Keep it professional.' she told herself, 'You need facts, not emotions!'

Piers entered soon afterwards and saluted smartly. "Colonel"

He thought she looked tired. Her fair hair was tied back in a bun and it made her face appear drawn; showing all of her 41 years. But the pale blue eyes told a different tale. They signalled an inner strength and a steely determination.

"Lieutenant." She looked up at him and tried to hide the double-take. This wasn't the usual Piers, smartly turned out; the hair perfectly shaped and gelled. His working uniform was dirty, torn at one knee; and she couldn't help but look at the cream coloured skin and brown hairs revealed beneath. His face was still marked with grime and his hair matted with dust from the morning's rescue. The boyish face had gone, only the characteristic curve of his lips remained. This was an experienced soldier standing before her, not the BSAA's pin-up.

Piers noted her appraising him. "I apologise for my appearance Ma'am. It's been a difficult morning."

"Well sit down Lieutenant and tell me about it. And tell me why Captain Redfield isn't here . . ."

Whilst Piers described the events, Jill made the occasional note, but otherwise remained silent. She didn't like being interrupted herself when she was talking. When Piers finished, she looked at her notes first, then at him.

"Thank you Lieutenant, concise, pertinent and informed. I would like some written reports from you this afternoon. First, an overall report along the lines that you have just described. Then I want a status report on Corporals Macauley and Svenson, injuries, prognosis, likely timescales for recovery . . ."

"I'm sorry Ma’am; I'm not a Doctor . . ."

"Well talk to them first, and then write it up! Plus anything that might explain why Corporal Macauley should have been targeted. I would also like a report on the operational status of Alpha Team, with an assessment of every team member, including Captain Redfield."

Piers gave her a sharp look. "I don't think that would be appropriate Ma'am; reporting on my superior officer, do you really mean that?"

Damn him, he was right, but it was worth a try she thought. "Well then Lieutenant, perhaps you can convince him to see me himself and I can make my own judgement. I'd like those reports by 15:00 today. Dismissed."

Piers stood up and saluted, "Ma'am."

"Wait! Look Piers, I can do this one of two ways. I can be the hard-faced bitch who terrorises everyone into doing what she wants, or I can be the other me."

"Which is?"

"Only slightly less abrasive, but with a smile!" She raised the corners of her mouth; she was still pretty when she smiled.

"Um, I'll take No. 2 then Ma'am."

"Good! And you get to call me Jill."

************************

After he left Jill, Piers went down to the Lieutenants office two floors below and started on the reports. It was gone lunchtime before Piers managed to get to the hospital. He spoke to the Doctors first. Danny's condition remained largely unchanged. But most importantly his brain pressure had fallen and remained low. The Senior Doctor had assured Piers that this was most encouraging. The likelihood of brain damage receded with every hour.

"Hopefully we will bring him out of the induced coma in a few days, perhaps four or five at most. We will be better able to assess his general condition then. If all goes well he should make a full recovery, but we are still looking at several months Lieutenant, half a year possibly.  He has been a very lucky man so far."

Piers thanked them for the information and went to find Finn; but his room was empty. He found him in the ICU, at Danny's bedside.

"Look, here's El Tee come to visit. Oh dear, he looks worse than you do Dan!"

"Finn! I didn't expect to see you here, how are you and how's Danny?"

"He's doing really well, aren't you Dan? I'm talking to him because he might be able to hear, and I'm not going anywhere with these feet!" He looked down at his new plaster 'boots' and grinned.

Finn recounted all he knew from their treatment. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I don't want Dan upset. What happened? Was it a gas main? We were on the roof, under the stars. It was really romantic, then boom!"

Piers grinned back at the young Corporal. "That's what love is like Finn, boom!" He stopped and rubbed his eyes, they were still tired and sore from the rescue, from the emotion of the day. He decided not to tell Finn about the second bomb, about Rob Ellis. There'd be time enough for that later.

"We think it was a bomb Finn, in your room. We just don't know yet. Don't worry about it for now, but you'll have to answer some questions soon, the FBI is involved. Colonel Valentine's dealing with them; I've just left from talking to her."

Finn's eyes grew round. "A bomb? Tell me you’re joking El Tee. Who would do such a thing? A bomb, I can’t believe it!"

"We don't know any more yet Finn. Don't worry, Chris and I will handle things. You and Danny just get well, that's our main concern right now."

"You look tired El Tee. And where's Captain? I'd like to thank him, as well as you. The nurse said you both rescued Dan and me. I don't remember much after you called out. It's all a blur."

Piers patted Finns' shoulder. "Hey we're Alpha Team, family, it's what we do. Captain is, er, busy. Reports and stuff, you know. He says 'Hi', and he'll see you later, OK? And you get some rest too soldier, Danny will understand. I'll try and get in this evening. Colonel Valentine wants to see me again this afternoon."

Finn looked worried. "The Colonel! She's scary El Tee, will she come here?"

"I suppose she'll have to Finn. But don't worry, I'll protect you, I promise." He grinned again. "Oh, by the way, have your parents been informed?"

"I don't know El Tee . . . could you?"

"Of course, it's my responsibility anyway, but I've been rather busy. I'll do it straightaway. Will they visit do you think?"

"My Ma and Da might, but I don't think Dan's will. They don't get on too well."

"Yes, he told me that." Piers was silent for a moment, he had a sudden mental image of his own father and the word 'disappointment' sprang into his mind. "Um . . . Oh well, leave it to me. You've got a phone in your room, so you can call them yourself later on. You get some rest for now Finn; that's an order!"

"Thanks El Tee. Tell Captain we're gonna be OK." He turned to Danny. "Do you hear that Dan? The Colonel's coming to see us, she's one fiery colleen! But I'm going to stay with you till you’re better. Just like Captain did with El Tee after China!"

Piers choked back a tear. He knew how serious Danny's condition was. If anyone could pull him through it would be Finn, the irrepressible optimist.

************************

Piers returned to headquarters to finish his reports. After an hour he realised he didn't have all the medical information he needed and returned again to the hospital.  Also he was hungry. He'd missed getting something to eat, preferring to get the reports ready early for Jill. He could get a sandwich in the small café there and get an update before he returned to Chris. When he arrived Finn was fast asleep. The strong pain killers he was on had finally taken effect and overcome the adrenalin in his blood stream. He went to check on Danny.

Inside the ICU he remembered the shemagh. He put his hand inside his trouser pocket and pulled out the cloth. He rinsed it in the sink that stood in one corner of the room and wrung it dry. He stood by the bed and gently placed the shemagh under Danny's left hand. "Look what I found Danny, it's a bit battered, like you, but it worked!" He patted Danny's hand and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "Get well soon my friend."

Piers was startled to see Jill behind him as he turned to leave. He hadn't heard her enter the ICU above the rhythmic pump of the ventilator. She smiled at him.

"That was kind Piers." she said as they left the room.

"He's family, we look after one another, Chris taught me that."

"Then accept me as family too. Please Piers. You always seem on the defensive when I'm around."

"I'm sorry Ma'am, Jill; it's just that with Chris . . ."

Jill laughed. "Oh I know, been there, got the scars. But you give him something I never could. A rock, a reference point in his crazy life. Something I never achieved." She was silent for a moment. "I'm not envious of your relationship Piers, I'm thankful for it."

Piers blushed. "I'm sorry, I get too possessive sometimes. He needs protecting Jill.

"Friends then?" she smiled again.

"Yes, friends, I'd like that."

"Then get him to see me, soon. I'd rather tell him face to face."

"Jill?"

"Just get him in my office Piers, please?" "Now, where's Corporal Macauley?"

"He was fast asleep a few minutes ago. He's doped up with pain killers, can't it wait?"

"I suppose it will have to. But I'd like to see him before the FBI do, I'll come back later."

"That would be better; he's had a rough time. Danny and he are . . . you know, close."

"Oh Piers, are you guarding everyone's six? Who looks after you?"

"They take it in turns!" He forced a smile.

"How do you manage him?" Jill asked, "Seriously, I never got close! For you it seems almost effortless. I'm not jealous, well, not any more, but I am intrigued."

"Well it's like a game of chess, figuring out the various possible moves, and their consequences. And then always keeping ten moves ahead."

"But he's so unpredictable, how can you compensate for that?"

"I guess it's my sniper mentality. Control the environment, like the breathing. Quietly go through the options, eliminate whatever variables you can; until there's only one feasible solution left, then let him act on it"

"Hmm, I think there's more to it than that. He's a hothead, impulsive, takes decisions in the heat of the moment. But you're cool, calculating, controlling. He may be wound up, but you the one who points him in the right direction. Hot and cold blending to get the temperature just right.

Piers allowed himself a chuckle. "Yeah, you're right; it's just like that at times!"

"Then get him to see me, I need assess things first-hand."

She realised it was the wrong thing to say as soon as she said it. Piers gave her a look that she knew put their new found friendship back on ice.

"Things or him?" He said coldly. She didn't answer.

************************

When Piers returned to Jill's office with the reports later that afternoon, Jill had still not seen Chris. His absence irritated her, but Piers had done as requested, and so she tried to be more conciliatory.

"Thank you Piers." She smiled. I had hoped to see Chris by now. "Do you know what the problem is?"

Piers paused; he wasn't sure how much he should say on Chris' behalf."  Today's events have been a shock Ma'am. A personal shock. Captain Ellis was an old and close friend to the Captain. It's not unreasonable that he needs time to come to terms with what's happened. His priorities after the rescue have been centred on the well-being of Mary Ellis and her family. They are his god children." He added for emphasis.

"I'm not made of stone Piers; Captain Ellis was my friend as well. He was one of Chris' first recruits. I understand how he must be feeling, but the BSAA has its needs too. We have to protect our personnel from further incidents, assist the FBI in its investigations, handle the press, and above all, we have to maintain our operational capability, despite these attacks. We cannot be held up by the inaction of one man."

"With respect Ma'am, I'm not the one making it an issue."

"Loyal to the last, eh Piers? The BSAA isn't just about Chris Redfield you know."

"It is for me Colonel, or have you forgotten? And in this specific instance, may I suggest you talk to Dee?"

Jill looked at him keenly at his use of the Director's name. Piers knew he was taking a chance. He couldn't say more without breaking his confidence to the Director, but it might be enough to protect Chris from Jill's questioning. He didn't think Chris could defend himself in his current emotional state.

"Get him here Piers, that's not a request!"

As soon as Piers left the room she picked up the phone. "It's Colonel Valentine, get me the Director please."

************************

Piers made his way back to the Officer's Mess where he found Chris still 'on guard'. He had organised something to eat earlier for Mary and the children, but otherwise had not left them since the morning. Piers had suspected as such, and had arrived accompanied by Susie Casey.

"I thought Mary would appreciate some female company Chris. How about you take a break?"

Chris shook his head, but Mary intervened."  Go on Chris, we'll be OK, I would like a chat with the Lieutenant. Go with Piers, by the looks of him he needs you just as much as we do!" She gave Chris a hug. "Go on Redwing, I'll be fine." she whispered.

Reluctantly Chris left. When he was alone with Piers in the corridor he stopped and pulled his partner close.

"Oh Piers, I've needed you these last few hours.  I just keep thinking how I'm to blame for Rob's death, for Finn and Danny. What Dee said would happen has happened. This is all my fault!"

Piers kissed Chris gently on the cheek. "Shh babe. We still don't know if these attacks are connected or who's responsible. And even if it is as Dee suggested, you mustn't feel responsible. That's just what any potential enemy would want. You've got to stay strong, for the sake of the BSAA, as well as yourself. Now, more than ever, you've got to play the role of Chris Redfield, Captain of Alpha Team. And I'll be by your side all the way, never doubt it!"

Chris took a deep breath and hugged Piers tight, his eyes filled with tears. "Whatever I do, I'll always love you, remember that."

Piers wasn't quite sure what Chris meant by that, but then he'd rarely seen him so emotional. He returned the embrace for a moment, and then held Chris by the shoulders. Tender hazel eyes gazed into sad brown ones.

"Babe, I've held her off all day, but Jill is insisting that she see you. She won't let it go. Let's get cleaned up a bit and then go and see her. Best get it over with. OK?"

Chris sighed. "Alright. But only because it's you that's asking. I'm too tired to fight anymore. What sort of mood is she in?"

"Um, demanding, to be 'concise and pertinent'!"

"Fuck! That's all I need just now! I can barely think for myself, let alone for Command."

"Then just listen, let her take the lead. I think she prefers to be in control!"

Chris was silent in the washroom. Piers had hoped a freshen-up might pull him out of his gloom, but his Captain seemed to have sunk quickly back into a moody depression. They washed the dirt and dust from the morning away; then Piers combed Chris' hair and his own. Finally he picked up a clothes brush and brushed the two of them down. 'It's some improvement, but shit, this isn't a parade!' Piers thought ruefully. 'The Colonel should understand. And if she didn't? Well tough, she'd have to suck it up like everyone else!'

************************

Jill Valentine bit her lip; she knew this was going to be hard. Her strong, brave impetuous Chris. The partner she could never hold. This would break his heart. 'Look him in the eye.' she told herself. 'Tell him things change, nothing ever stays the same.'

Chris and Piers entered the office together. Piers perhaps, was expecting a difficult meeting, but Chris remained detached from the present. Piers nudged him to salute as they stood in front the desk. "Colonel."

"No need for formalities, we're all friends here." She looked at Piers, as if for support. "Please, sit down."

Jill was shocked by Chris' appearance. There were dark rings under his eyes, and his gaze was unfocussed. His hands clenched and un-clenched nervously. His broad shoulders were hunched and he looked like a man in defeat. He sat down heavily and slumped in the chair. His right leg began to 'tap almost immediately. Piers put a steadying hand on it and gave Chris a smile of encouragement. Piers, the ever faithful, ever loyal partner. He was the one she would have to convince now.

The Colonel looked at the list in front of her and gathered her thoughts together.  She commenced the meeting by running through Piers' reports, making additional comments of her own and from her other meetings held during the day. Piers noted that her gaze was on Chris for most of the time she spoke. Piers made the occasional comment, or provided clarification when asked, but Chris remained silent, uninvolved. At length she finished.

"Any further comments?" Piers shook his head, whilst Chris remained motionless.

"Chris?" She raised her voice to attract his attention. "I have been speaking to the Director; updating him on events here .. . and seeking his advice." she looked pointedly at Piers as she said that last part. "He has left the final decision up to me. I have not made it lightly. But things change, nothing is set in stone . . ."

"Damn it! Get to the point Jill!" Chris said suddenly, drumming the fingers of his bandaged hands impatiently on the desk."

"In the light of recent circumstances, the long-term injuries to Corporals Macauley and Svenson and . . .” she paused to look at Chris, “. . . your own current issues; I have no choice but to disband Alpha Team with immediate effect." Her voice cracked. "The remaining team members who are operationally fit will be assigned new duties in other SOUs. I'm sorry . . ." her voice trailed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 (Part 1) - This chapter doesn't move forward much in time because I wanted to concentrate on Chris' gradual descent into a major PTSD attack. Despite all of Piers' efforts to protect his Captain, the pressure on Chris piles up. Part 2 will see the effects of Jill Valentines decision on Chris and Piers. Investigations into those behind the bombings begin.


	4. Alpha to Omega (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 4: Alpha Team is broken up. Chris is on the verge of a breakdown. Finn and Danny are exposed. Piers does a deal with the devil, whilst Chris fights his own demons. Later, Piers won't take 'No' for an answer. And as for the epilogues . . !

 

 

Previously:

"In the light of recent circumstances, the long-term injuries to Corporals Macauley and Svenson and . . .” Jill paused to look at Chris, “. . . your own current issues; I have no choice but to disband Alpha Team with immediate effect." Her voice cracked. "The remaining team members who are operationally fit will be assigned new duties in other SOUs. I'm sorry . . ." her voice trailed off.

************************

Chris brought both his hands down on the table with such force that Jill started. Blood began to seep through the bandages wrapped around them. His dark eyes blazed with a fire they hadn't shown since the rescue earlier in the day. He moved his face within inches of hers.

"You've never understood have you? All those years I searched for you and this is what I get. Kicked in the balls by my oldest partner; my own team broken up before my very eyes . . ."

"Chris, please it's . . ."

"No, don't bother to explain Jill. I'm sick of all this. You can play your Command games; I prefer to stay in the real world. Come on Piers, we've got better things to do, people need our help, not our damned politics."

Chris stood up, towering over Jill. "Have you even spoken to Mary and the kids yet? The BSAA may have lost a fine Captain this morning; but they lost a loving husband and a devoted father. Jesus Christ Jill! What's happened to you these last few years?" He stormed out of the office before she could reply.

Piers went to follow, but the Colonel called him back.

"Piers, stay a moment, please? Look after him, get him to calm down; then come and see me. These issues won't go away, whether Chris likes it or not. Perhaps I can discuss my proposals more calmly with you. I'd appreciate your input."

"I think you should do as the Captain said Ma'am. See Mary Ellis, it's what a friend would do."

"Piers!" Chris shouted out from the corridor.

"Coming Captain."

************************

Francisco Cortez arrived at the former logging camp just after dawn. He had driven the stolen car a hundred miles up-state shortly after he had attached the bomb to Rob Ellis' vehicle. He parked-up next to a crumbling wood cabin . . .

Earlier that morning he had slipped in unnoticed into the barracks and planted the device in Finn's wardrobe. Corporal Higgs had alerted him when Finn and Danny left Finn's room. He'd set the timer for 07:00 and re-traced his steps. On the way out he had stopped at Higgs's door. . .

"It's set for seven o’clock. If I were you I'd be somewhere else. Tell your friend Moffat as well."

"Where are you going?"

"Idiot, like I'd tell you! Just keep your mouths shut and you'll be alright. If not, you’re dead meat, both of you. This isn't Burrows you're dealing with, he was a fucking amateur. This lot mean business. Your days in the BSAA are numbered now he's gone anyway. My advice is to go quietly. Just suck-it up and disappear” He handed over an envelope of cash. "This should help . . ."

Inside the cabin he put his gun down on a rickety table by the window; then lit a fire in the old pot stove. It was getting misty outside, no one would notice the smoke. He brewed himself a coffee and lit a cigarette. His hands shook as he inhaled deeply Then he sat down by the table and waited . . .

************************

Piers led Chris back to his office on the floor below. Like all the Captains offices, it had a day-bed that doubled as a sofa when entertaining guests. Piers steered his partner to it. Chris sat down heavily; his anger at Jill had subsided to be replaced by the thousand yard stare again. Piers knew he had to act fast to prevent Chris from descending into a quagmire of doubt and self-pity. He understood very well what it would lead to if it wasn't checked.

"Chris, snap out of it!" He shouted to get his Captain's attention. "Look at me damn you. You are Captain Christopher Redfield, BSAA, do you understand? Listen to me; I am Piers Nivans, your Lieutenant, your partner. Remember!"

Chris looked up at him. His face crumpled and reddened, tears welling up in the dark hooded eyes, his lips trembled. "Piers?"

"Yes my love, its Piers, I'm here to help."

Piers knelt down before him and gently pulled Chris' head into his breast.

"OK babe, you've bottled it up all day. Let it all out now. We're alone, I've got you."

The big man let out a moan. His chest heaved as he sobbed. The dam burst and the tears he'd been holding back flooded down his cheeks. He couldn't talk. He gulped in air through his mouth as his nose ran and then blocked with snot.

"That's it, best to get it over with, don't bottle it up. You don't have to play the role of Captain Redfield for me alright? I'm here, I'll always be here."

He stayed there with Chris until the tears stopped flowing, until the sobs slowly subsided and were silenced. He'd no idea of the time. It didn't matter. He put his arms under Chris' legs and lifted them gently onto the bed. Piers took of his shemagh and used it to wipe his Captain's face clean. He rubbed his thumbs softly against Chris' cheeks and lips.

"Come on my love, get some rest now. You haven't stopped all day"

Piers took a blanket from a drawer beneath the bed and put it over Chris' legs and chest.

"I'm sorry babe."

"What for?"

"For putting you through that."

"Hey, you're my partner. We share the good times and the bad OK? Tomorrow won't hurt as much, believe me."

"I haven't cried so much since I thought I'd lost you. In that escape pod, I thought my heart would burst."

Piers shuddered briefly then regained control. "Shh now, sleep."

Almost all soldiers have an uncanny ability to snatch a rest anywhere, anytime. Be it huddled in a slit trench, or bouncing around in the back of a personnel carrier. Chris was no exception and soon his breathing became slow and regular as he drifted off to sleep, holding the green shemagh in his wounded hands.

Piers was torn between staying and watching over Chris, or seeing Jill. He chose the latter. He did have some ideas about her proposals, and he wouldn't be far from his Captain. She had been right on one thing; the issues wouldn't go away. As he quietly closed the door to the office he turned the pointer on Chris' activity dial. Do Not Disturb.

************************

Cortez heard the bike coming slowly up the track long before it arrived, he reached for his gun. The mist hanging over the forest had thickened, and now it was turning to drizzle.

The rider came in carrying a package. He put it down on table and took of his red and white helmet.

"Tako moj prijatelju, tvoji dani u BSAA gotovi." (So my friend, your days in the BSAA are over.)

"Habla en inglés. No entiendo esa mierda!" (Speak in English. I don't understand that shit!)

The rider translated, as if for a child.

"I'm glad they're over. I want my life back." said Cortez with feeling.

The rider sniggered; his pale grey eyes seemed to be laughing at him.

"What's so funny?" Cortez said. He stared at the rider's broad face and prominent cheekbones, the snubbed nose and pale skin. He'd got to know his controller well over the last couple of months, but he was still one sick bastard.

"Here you are, happily taking your Captain's life, and you want yours back. Doesn't that strike you as funny?"

"He's dead then?"

"Oh yeah, toast."

"What about those fucking queers?"

"I don't know yet. Does it matter? You did what I asked, you sent the message. Forget about it"

Cortez scowled. He picked up the package. "Are the drugs in here?

"Yeah, here are the dosage instructions." the rider pulled out an envelope from inside his leathers and handed it to Cortez. He shrugged, "I forgot to put them inside."

Cortez weighed the package in his hand. "It feels heavy."

"I've given you enough masking agent for a fortnight. If you get stopped for any reason you don't wanna' prove positive on a dope test. And there's more than enough cash to tie you over until we meet up. Best stay out of trouble till then. Remember your instructions. I'll meet you there in two weeks. Don't fuck up, don't get caught! Here, give me some of that. I'm freezing my balls off on that damned bike” He took the coffee mug in his gloved hands and drank it empty.

"I'll be off. Don't forget what I've told you." He put his helmet back on and left.

Cortez heard the bike go back down the track. He threw the dregs of the coffee pot over the fire to put it out. He turned up his collar and picked up the package. Soon he'd be somewhere warm. He sat down behind the steering wheel. He turned and threw the package over onto the back seat with his right arm.

The explosion didn't have the force it should have had. Faulty placement of the detonator was to blame. But it was quite enough to turn his arm to pulp and splatter his decapitated head over the windshield fractionally before it too shattered and blew out of the car. It was,after all, the first bomb he had made under instruction. And so it had his fingerprints all over it.

'Oh dear, the bomber just blew himself up.' the rider grinned as he watched the smoke billow out from the rear of the car. Some, including the FBI, would say that was poetic justice. He had waited to hear the explosion before returning to the old campsite. He rode slowly up the muddy trail so as not to leave heavy tyre marks. By the time he returned to the main road later on the rain was already washing his tracks away. Nature was on his side today.

************************

Chris watched the facility disappearing into the depths as the pod rose towards the surface on a cloud of bubbles. He had one last sighting of Piers. And there was someone else standing behind him. Rob? Then the explosion illuminated the sea bed one last time. The pod rocked and bucked in a macabre dance as the pressure waves reached and passed over it. His fists banged against the thick glass window, his knuckles red with blood. "Piers, Rob, no, not you! . . ." The tears from his eyes joined the mucus running from his nose.

He looked at his reflection in the glass, and saw someone else's. He spun around. The powerfully built man was dressed in a black leather jacket with the collar turned up. A small medallion hung against the heavy black roll-neck sweater.

"You?"

"Da, zalutali pas, the stray dog. But you can call me Justin, Amerikanac."

"How did you . . .?" Chris wiped the snot from his nose with the back of a bloody hand.

"Look at you, crying over dead men. You've become soft, you sicken me."

He suddenly pushed Chris back against the door of the pod. His head slammed into the latch. Chris felt the blood trickle from wound on the back of his head. "Gnhh!" It was the same wound that had made him forget the first time.

Justin stepped towards Chris and brought his right knee up into Chris' groin. Chris fought the urge to vomit as the pain surged through his body, his buttocks clenching in shock.

"Urghh."

"Soft. That's what you've become living with, ta nakaza sa sjajnim rukom, that freak with the glowing arm . . .” Justin smashed his left fist into Chris' gut.

"Uff!"

". . . taj momak kurva, that pretty-boy whore." Justin's right fist delivered a kidney punch; Chris doubled up and started to slide down towards the floor.

"He took you from your true home, from me. Well he's dead, just like all the friends you ever had. Now you’re coming back!"

Justin pulled Chris' head up and looked into the pleading eyes. "You will forget him, forget them all. It will be so easy, trust me." Justin delivered a vicious uppercut. "Forget him! Zaboravi ga!" he snarled.

"Nngh." Chris fell face down on to the floor. He tried to regain his senses, but the pod was rocking in the ocean current. Justin landed a heavy kick into his side, Chris lay gasping for air, blood on his lips, his body convulsed as the next kick struck home.

"Come with me soft American. It's over, you are mine now."

Chris could see Justin standing over him, gloating in his victory. From a place he had never been to before the Captain found hope. No! Piers hadn't died, he'd come back. He had saved his Captain and given him a reason to live.

"No, he's alive!" Chris slowly pushed himself up on his arms, his muscles screaming out in pain. "It's not true." His left foot suddenly kicked out and caught Justin behind the knee. He heard bone and sinew snap. "You're lying, you bastard."

As Justin fell down Chris brought an elbow crashing down into the back of his opponent's head. Justin sprawled on the floor, stunned. Chris turned him over then brought both his fists down on the man's windpipe. He began to choke immediately as the larynx fractured, blocking his airway. His hands flailed at Chris' face, the fingernails clawing for a hold. Then they fell back above his head, outstretched, palm up. Chris pressed his own fingers deeper and deeper into the yielding flesh. The man's malevolent eyes bulged then started to grow dim.

"I won't go. Never! Get out of my head you fucking monster!" Justin's last breath escaped with a rattle over his distended and bloodied tongue.

************************

Piers sat opposite Jill at her desk in the briefing room. Like his Captain before him, his fists hit the desk hard.

"Damn it Colonel, Chris has got some problems just now. Give him; give Alpha Team, a break. Why not put us on temporary transfers to the other SOU's, rather than declare the whole team disbanded! At least keep it in name, even if temporarily inactive. Alpha Team means a lot to all the guys, it's a symbol. The BSAA is going to be pushed to the limit out there if our Intel is correct. We will need all the help we can get pretty soon."

"So you are one of the Director's chosen Piers? You wouldn't know that otherwise. You're Dee's latest protégé aren't you?"

Piers knew he'd said too much in the heat of the moment. "That's irrelevant Colonel, the BSAA is the issue here, not me."

"We are all relevant Piers, perhaps more so than you realise. Your present support of Chris for example, it has consequences you can't imagine."

"What do you mean? How does that matter? I know he's a symbol for the BSAA and the fight against bio terrorism; but you don't mean that do you?"

"No, I don't. It seems we're both good at breaking confidences."

"Well, at least we have that in common Colonel." He had calmed down now, he tried a half smile.

"That and Chris' welfare. Listen, I haven't said this, but keep him together Piers. You're doing a good job, don't stop now." Piers gave a Jill a questioning look, he opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"No, we've both said enough Lieutenant, now I'm putting my BSAA face back on. This is what I propose for the SOUs. What do you think?" Jill handed Piers a neatly typed sheet. He read through it quickly, rolled his eyes and handed it back to her without speaking.

"I guess you don't like my ideas for Alpha? Well then, what do you suggest?"

"First don't disband the team, just call it a temporary re-allocation of duties. Second, if I am to lead Bravo, I'd like Andy Walker with me. He can replace Cortez and support Pete Carter up front. I don't have much experience on point; it's something Chris and I were about to start before all of this. He'll be my eyes and ears. And I wouldn't split Ben and Carl . . .”

"Don't tell me! Are they another item?"

Piers blushed slightly, "No, not like that. I don't think Mrs Alfonso would be amused to hear such a thing! But together they're more than the sum of their parts. They've been alongside one another since the day they joined up. Ben's still carrying a bit of an injury, nothing serious, just niggling. Why not put them in Echo, the training team? That way we can release a couple of experienced instructors for ops, give them the action they always say they want. One could go to Delta, Chris says it's weak and I agree; Simmonds would be my choice for that. Clark would fit in well with Charlie. They're all relatively young, the experience would be a useful boost; give them a steadying influence, you know?"

"Just how many steps ahead of me are you at the moment Piers?"

"About seven or eight Ma'am."

Jill could see the earnestness and sparkle in Piers' eyes. Despite the problems with Chris, his dedication to the SOUs and the BSAA shone through. She knew that one day he would make a fine Operations Director, but only once she had become the Director.

"Very well Piers. I'll take your advice in full, and you have my thanks in return. At the risk of repeating myself, are we friends now?" She smiled a tight, tired smile; she knew her work was far from over.

"Well, at the risk of repeating _my_ self,Chris will always be my first priority. He is the BSAA as far as I'm concerned. I'll resign before I compromise on that. If you can accept that as a given, then yes. We both have enough enemies out there, I'd rather have another friend anytime” He put out his hand.

She shook it warmly. "Thank you Piers, just carry on the way you’re going and we might actually get through all this. Get Chris back on-line, Command has plans for you two. That's all I can say for now. Carry on Piers"

Piers smiled inwardly. It seemed everyone from the President down had plans for Piers and his Captain. He saluted but as he was about to leave, he turned back to Jill.

"How about Security?" Piers said.

"What?"

"Security, Chris. OK, I accept he's not in the best state for active operations right now, but Burrows has just gone and we've no replacement at present. The Captain could do the job until one arrives. It would give him a role until Alpha reforms, or Command carries out its plans, whatever they are." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "He'd be visible; it's an important job, getting a new security team together post-Burrows and his stooges. It would make him feel needed. What do you think?"

"I think that makes you about ten steps ahead now. It's a good idea Piers, go find him and ask him. Tell him it's your idea, he might accept it more coming from you rather than me at the moment. Any more ideas before you leave? I've a pile of work to catch up on."

"Yes, go and visit Mary, it's important to Chris. I'm taking him to see Finn and Danny now, he's been avoiding it all day for some reason."

"I know why. He's had a thing about hospitals ever since your recovery post Lanshiang. You didn't see it all from your sickbed, but it was a traumatic time for him Piers. It changed him, one way and another . . ." She paused as she remembered the time herself. "You might have to hold his hand." Jill managed another smile.

"And just when I've already got my hands full! Thanks Jill." He flashed the full Nivans smile. The dimple formed over the two moles on his left cheek. Like his shooting, the effect was devastating. It never missed its target.

Jill watched him leave, 'God, if only I was just ten year younger,' she thought. She forced her mind back to business. 'Dee will kill me if he finds I'm helping Chris through his crisis. Well, he approved Burrows. Yes, that's my defence, and we do need a head of Security. Hmm, thin, but it will have to do.' She sighed as she picked up the next file and began to read slowly. Then she put it down abruptly. 'Chris and Piers are right; I should see Mary Ellis . . .'

************************

"Chris, Chris! Wake up!"

Chris opened his eyes, his hands were holding onto Piers' collar. Then he saw Piers' face looking back at him, smiling, concerned,tender, like it had been that time before. When he thought he'd never see it again. "Is it you? Are you real? Where am . . ."

"Shh babe, you’re safe with me. You were having a nightmare. Shh now, everything's OK."

"Has he gone?"

"Who? There's no one here babe. You must have dreamt it. What happened?"

"He was there, the stray dog, remember him? He called himself Justin. He tried to take me Piers, just like he did before. Back to Edonia. He told me you were dead. But I fought him, in the escape pod. I think he's gone babe, for good."

Piers hugged Chris tightly. "Welcome back my love. I'm not exactly sure where you've been, but welcome back."

************************

After visiting Mary; Jill returned to the headquarters building. She locked the door to the briefing room behind her after entering. Then she walked over to the hooded sound-proof booth that held the secure phone and dialled the number memorised long ago.

"Dee, its Jill. I need to talk about Chris."

"Gillian my dear, you caught me in mid-inhalation, just a moment please . . ."

She heard the sound of a door closing in the background.

". . . There, that's better."

"Who was there?"

"Only Michael."

"Oh, but I thought Mike . . ."

"He has great admiration for Christopher, and is rapidly developing a friendship with young Piers. Therefore I think it best he is not 'in the loop' on this particular operation. Now, how can I help you?"

"Chris is only part way there at the moment. It may not happen as you wanted."

"Hhmm, I had really hoped it would. Can you, er, exert some more pressure?"

'You bastard . . .' she thought. '. . . Chris always said you were ruthless.' She felt her resolve stiffen as she spoke. "No Dee, don't expect me to do that! It would be immoral. I feel bad enough about using his medical condition in this way as it is. I think you’ve underestimated the calming and controlling influence Piers has on him."

"I don't have the time Gillian. I want to rid the world of this pestilence once and for all. The doctors have given me a year, eighteen months at most."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you have to loose your humanity beforehand. It's no excuse."

The Director sighed, and pulled out his inhaler. "Well my dear . . ."puff, ". . . if Christopher doesn't breakdown . . ." puff, ". .. then we will have to revert to our fallback plan. It's more risky for everyone involved, but it seems to be the only viable alternative at the moment. Our enemies have no problems with scruples or morality. Remember that when you order Christopher and Piers into harm's way."

"Don't play those games with me Dee. This whole thing is rushed. Where's the meticulous planning huh? I feel like I'm making things up as I go along down here. How do you know Chris will revert? Suppose it's to someone else? And how do you switch him back?"

"You're wrong Gillian. I've known that Christopher was a specific target for some while. That these initial attacks would be personal, an attempt to break his will. I had to find a way to make use of that, to turn it against the new alliance. All the medical evidence we have suggested that if the attacks were sufficiently traumatic he would revert just like he did before, exactly as he did before. It's like his default mode. When he does, the first thing he'll do is go home. He'll insert himself, we won't be involved at all, we just have to make a pretence of looking for him ourselves, elsewhere. But in any event, they won't be looking for Justin. They'll be looking for Captain Christopher Redfield. If this operation is to succeed, not only must it look real, it must 'be' real. Piers will be the switch, or one of our agents in the field, that's the issue that's taxing me as we speak. But it will only happen at a time of our choosing. If we can maintain control of events we will keep the element of surprise."

"It seems fraught to me. Look, are you sure your intelligence is good on this?"

"Impeccable my dear. Pillow talk, always so reliable. I know it's hard for you Gillian, but it would be in everyone's interest for Christopher to succumb."

The phrase suddenly struck Jill. 'Pillow talk? Christ, I wonder if Mike's ever said stuff in the past . . . no, surely not?' She pushed the thought to the 'pending' tray and forced her mind back to the matter in-hand.

"Well Dee, you'll have to wait for nature to take its course I'm afraid. I'm not willing to be a participant anymore. If you saw him for your self, you'd think twice about your plans. And yes, it is hard for me. I'd forgotten how much a part of my life he was, perhaps you have too. No matter, I'll speak to you as soon as anything happens, but I'm not going to be the one to pull the trigger."

"That's very disappointing to hear dear girl. I hope that nature, at least, is on my side."

"And what's that supposed to mean? How dare you doubt my loyalty! You may be the best Director the BSAA has ever had, but don't get paranoid."

"My apologies Gillian. I am not paranoid I assure you, but I am pressed for time. Forgive my impatience. I hold all of my chosen in the highest regard, but I can't let personal feelings cloud my judgement. The BSAA must prevail in this battle, but there will be casualties. That is one certainty.”

"Then don't make yourself one of the first Dee, goodbye."

"Calm down Gillian. One moment if you please. What about the re-organisation of the SOUs?”

“Piers has provided some useful input covering the SOUs and Security I'll speak to you later when I’ve got it all finalised.”

“Security as well? How enterprising that young man is. I await your report with interest Gillian. And how is the FBI investigation progressing?"

"They seem to think it's a simple case of revenge on Cortez's part so far. Disgruntled Sergeant versus authoritarian Captain and blaming the two Corporals for all his problems.  An open and shut case."

"Excellent, now that is good news. Best let them continue to think that my dear. And your own investigations?"

"Hardly begun, Cortez hasn't been seen since Sunday night. To be honest, I don't think we'll hear from him again."

"No, not if our suspicions are correct. Look out for a suicide note. If you find it, let the FBI, ahem, 'get' to it first. Alright?"

"Yes Dee of course, goodbye."

"Remember my dear, I'm counting on you."

"No pressure then!"

"Ha, ha. Oh Gillian! For a moment then you sounded just like dear Christopher. Perhaps I have another obedient rebel on my hands? Goodbye."

************************

"Come on babe, you've been putting it of all day. Finn's already been asking where you are. They're your men."

"Not now, I don't have any men, she's taken them from me! I should get back to Mary and the children."

"Captain, they need you too damn it! You didn't desert me three years ago. Don't desert them now. Please? I know it brings back memories, but you’re past that we, we both are." He took Chris' hand. "Come on babe,” he said softly, "For their sake, yes?"

Chris didn't offer any further resistance. He was emotionally exhausted and too tired to argue any more that day; least of all with Piers. And deep down he knew that Piers was correct. He drew a long breath.

"OK Ace, you’re right as ever. But we see Mary straight afterwards."

"Of course babe, and then we go home. Poor Ruff's been on his own all this time. As the new head of base security you can put him into one of the police kennels during the day in future, he'll have company there."

That's a good idea ba . . . What did you just say?"

"Um, your new job. I, er, was just about to tell you. You want to find Rob's killer, so what better position to have?"

"Is that meant to make me happy Lieutenant? Have you done a deal with the she-devil?"

Piers wasn't sure if Chris was angry or not. "It was my idea Captain, I take full responsibility."

"And all the credit if I say yes?" Chris pulled Piers close and whispered in his ear. "You bastard Piers, you're getting as cunning as Dee."

Piers breathed a sigh of relief. "I have a good teacher."he whispered back.

"Now suck it up Captain, time to visit the hospital. I'll get someone to look at your hands too whilst we're there."

"Yes Sir."

************************

Finn had returned straight to the ICU after his rest earlier; and stubbornly resisted all the doctor's calls for him to go back to his own room. He keenly observed the routine of checks every quarter of an hour by the nurses, the hourly check by the duty physician and the anaesthetist. And when he could, he asked questions about Danny's treatment and condition.

One of the nurses took pity on the young corporal. She had a word with the senior consultant, and came back to Finn with a big smile on her pretty face.

"Your man says yes. You can have the next ICU bed, unless it's needed that is. Sure now, that will bring a smile to that long face you've been wearing."

"Do you hear that Dan? I'm moving in with you!" Finn gave her his special grin. "Oh thank you nurse, that's marvellous so it is!”

"Don't try that Cork blarney with me soldier." Her green eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Dublin?" he asked.

"Not for three or four generations, but the old ways remain."

"Thank you . . ." he looked at her name tag, ". . . Branna."

"Cos' of my black hair, it means raven haired."

"Well I'm Finn and this here is Danny, but I suppose you know that."

"Yes, we sort of knew when you came in this morning." She laughed. "All the nurses have been talking about you. They say you were both naked on arrival," she giggled, "is that true?"

"Oh, oh yes." Finn blushed. "We were on the roof; we'd been watching the stars. It was so romantic!"

"Naked? Weren't you both cold?"

"Well, we did have a blanket, and, er, and each other. If you follow. We watched the stars fade out, one by one. Then we must have fallen asleep again. Next thing, boom! He saved me you know, my Dan."

She looked in mock surprise. "So I'm wasting my time then Corporal?"

"No, yes, I mean no, oh. I'm spoken for!" Finn's blush deepened.

"Sure, I'm only teasin'. From what I can see of him, you've a fine taste in men. We girls guessed as much, the way you wouldn't leave him all day. We think it's lovely, even if it means we miss out on two fine young specimens. Remember Finn Macauley, we're nurses. We've seen it all before!" and she winked.

Finn by now was the colour of a beetroot.

"Oh look, you've got visitors." She sighed. "Another couple lost to us poor nightingales."

Piers had to push Chris into the ICU. His eyes and ears took in the monitors and the rhythmic beat of the ventilator. The sounds and the noises brought painful memories flooding back in an instant. He stopped to turn around, but Piers blocked his path.

"Nice try Chris, but you've already been spotted." Piers whispered over his shoulder.

"Captain!  How are you? You look tired, what's been happening? Look Dan, Captain's come to say hello and El Tee too."

Chris knew he couldn't turn back now, even if he wanted to. He took a deep breath and sucked it up.

"Finn! Don't you worry about me.  How are you and Danny? That's what's important."

Piers got a chair for Chris and put it next to Finn's wheelchair. He stood behind it with his hands on Chris' shoulders. Partly from affection, and partly to keep him there. Finn noticed the bloodied bandages around his Captain's hands.

"Look at you Sir; you should be in here, not me. Who have you been fighting this time?"

"Oh, just some building that tried to take on two of Alpha's finest. I'm getting used to it, concrete, boulders, they're all the same!"

"Awesome! El Tee said you led the rescue. Thank you Captain. Dan says thanks too. I know he's listening, he just squeezed my hand, I swear."

Chris grasped Finn and Danny's hands in his. He knew he was tearing-up.

"Oh Finn." He smiled, in the reassuring way he often did with Finn, like a proud father. They shared the moment for a while, all comrades together. At last Piers broke the silence.

"Um, have the others been in yet Finn?"

"Why yes El Tee, they all came about an hour ago I think. I'm not good with the time right now, they keep giving me pills and one moment I'm awake and the next I'm asleep. I try and stay awake for Dan's hourly checks, but I might have missed one or two. The lads are all fine, and they brought Dan and me some stuff to make us comfy.  Wasn't that nice of them? Andy brought some cans too. I'm saving them for when Dan wakes up. I hid them in my locker. Shh, don't tell the doctors! Look, here they come now. It must be time for Dan's next check-up, on the hour, every hour."

"We'd best go then Finn, we'll see you tomorrow, OK."

"We'll be here Captain. Thank you Sirs, for everything."

As they left Piers asked the duty physician about Danny's progress.

"Well Lieutenant, his brain pressure remains low, that's a good thing. The risk of brain damage is receding and points to a full recovery of his mental faculties. The crushing and trauma injuries to his body remain serious, but his vital signs are stable. Given time, six months perhaps, he should be fit for duty. That assumes a positive mental attitude. Some people have difficulty coping with such a recovery. It can be a frustrating period,especially for the young. I expect you understand?"

"Yes." Piers replied slowly. "I do have some personal experience." He changed the subject. "How much longer will Danny be in the induced coma?"

"Hhm, at present progress, four days I would say. It's sometimes quite traumatic for the patient as they come out of the coma. Many patients tell of experiencing violent nightmares as the anaesthetic is reduced. His devoted friend should be aware of that prospect. I'll speak to him later. That young man seems very keen on following our medical procedures. He's been asking all sorts of questions."

Piers grinned. "He's Alpha Team's medic, so he has a professional as well as a personal interest you might say."

The Doctor smiled, "If he carries on like this, it will be the healthiest team in the BSAA. Excuse me now, I must get on."

"Thanks Doctor, I appreciate your time. Good to know they're in safe hands. Talking of which . . . Captain?  We're not finished here yet."

Before they left the hospital, Piers got one of the junior doctors to look at a reluctant Chris' hands.

"Good grief Captain Redfield, these cuts are quite deep. You need some stitches right now. Didn't it hurt?"

"No, no more than the rest of the day, it's been a fucking bitch. How's yours been?"

"Oh, fine, dandy. Er, just wait here, I'll get my suture kit and a nurse. Would you like a local anaesthetic Captain?"

Chris gave him a hard look.

"Um, no, I suppose not then. I won't be a minute." He ran, perhaps a little too fast, to fetch the nurse.

Tired as he was, Piers chuckled. "He obviously hasn't met Captain Bearfield before."

Chris gave another hard look.

************************

After they left the hospital Chris and Piers made their way to the Officer's Mess. Robbie and Becky ran to them as soon as they got to the suite. They held on to their Uncles as if afraid they would leave again at any minute. Mary was talking to Susie. Her face was drawn, but she managed a weak smile as they entered the room.

"You've just missed Jill valentine. I haven't seen her for so long, remember the old days, when Rob and . . . Oh dear! I'm going to cry again."

"No Mary, don't cry. They were great times. Those are the memories that will get you through this. Not today perhaps, but in the days to come. Rob will always be with us." Chris put an arm around her. "Hey now,” he said quietly, "Things will get better, give it time. Trust me." He knelt down by her side andheld her tight. "Believe me Mary, you'll get through this." He gently kissed her hair, and held back his own tears.

Susie and Piers got the children ready for early bed. Piers tucked them in and kissed them both goodnight. He took Poochie for a quick walk, and returned. Chris and Mary were talking in the lounge. Susie beckoned Piers over to the kitchenette.

"Piers, the Wives Club rang; their organising a car pool and shopping for Mary, visits and such. But she'll need a proper home soon. The kids need somewhere to play, and the Mess isn't the best place to keep Poochie. I can't see them going back to their own home for a while, if ever. But then I remembered. Captain Redfield reserved a married quarter in his name a while ago. He didn't say why, do you know?"

"Yes, Susie I do, but things change.  I think that would be a great idea."

"But I haven't said what I . . ."

"Sorry, I'm always getting ahead, it's becoming a habit. Mary and the kids, a new home in the married quarters, at least until things are settled. Take it from me, Chris will be delighted. He can keep an eye on them just as easily there. The kids will be with their friends, Mary will have company and Poochie gets a yard instead of the Mess carpet. Susie, you're an angel. Best reserve another quarter though. That other problem hasn't gone away yet."

"Which is . . .?"

"Sorry. Need to Know only, very hush, hush."

He flashed the smile and kissed her on both cheeks. She blushed. Afterwards she wasn't sure which she had enjoyed the most, perhaps both?

Before they left Mary hugged both men tight. "My hero." she whispered into Chris' ear. "Rob says thank you, I swear, I can hear him now."

She looked deep into Piers' hazel eyes. "Give that man some loving tonight Handsome. He's running on fumes and vapours." Piers recognised the old air force saying.

He returned her kiss. "God bless Mary. You've got our number; ring anytime if you need us."

************************

Piers told Chris about Susie's idea on their way back to the Deuce of Hearts. It seemed to lift his spirits a little. This was the BSAA pulling together, not politicking and in-fighting.

When they got inside, the first thing Piers did was to check on Ruff. The puppy had heard Chris' truck as it came down the track from the Four of Diamonds gate and had immediately began yipping. He was so excited to see them both, his tail wagged furiously as he jumped with joy at the return of his masters.

Chris bent down and fondled his ears. "You're a sight for sore eyes kiddo. Did ya' miss me huh?"

Piers smiled at the sight. 'Never underestimate the therapeutic powers of puppies Captain.' he thought to himself.

One of Ruff's ears was still floppy, but his legs were getting longer now and his eyes had lost their puppy-blue colour. They had turned a warm, dark brown.

"He's got your eyes," Piers had said when he and Chris first noticed the change.

Yeah, and he's got your hair. If it gets any longer, he'll need to borrow some of your gel."

Piers had rolled his eyes at that, "No way, I need it all! He'll have to buy his own."

But this evening the happy banter was missing. Chris had slumped onto the sofa whilst Piers fixed something to eat for them all.

"Pizza OK babe?"

"Whatever, I'm not really hungry. Jeez, what a fucking day! Do you want a drink, scotch?"

"Just a small one, you know me."

"Well, I might just keep the bottle right here."

Normally Piers would have said something, but he let the comment go. After what he'd been through if Chris chose to drink himself to sleep that night, Piers wouldn't stand in his way. He put the pizzas in the oven, a bowl down for Ruff, and then joined Chris on the sofa.

Piers took Chris' head on to his lap and softly stroked the short brown hair. Chris looked up at his partner with sad eyes, red rimmed with tiredness.

"Has this all been my fault Piers? What's gone on today? If I wasn't here none of this would have happened would it? Robbie and Becky would still have a father, Danny would be fit and well, Finn would have his partner. Alpha Team would still be a family. Now all that's gone because I'm the target but they're the ones who suffer the damage. It's true isn't it?"

"No Chris, it's not true at all. All the things you've ever done in the BSAA are for a noble cause. It's you who taught me about self-sacrifice, about service to those who need protection. You're not the one to blame for the evil in others hearts. You inspire us all. Everyone in the BSAA knows the risks. There are a hundred ways you could die a horrible death out there, but people like you make the rest of us think that risk is worth taking. Because the cause is right and just."

He bent down and kissed Chris' forehead.

"You were always harder on your self than anyone else Chris. Look, it's only been the first day of what is gonna' be a tough time for everyone. And already you've more or less single-handedly rescued two promising members of the BSAA who also happen to be part of our 'family. Danny could have died if he hadn't been pulled out quickly. You did that. Then despite losing your best friend in the most terrible way, you've protected and nurtured his family. You did that. You've brought yourself back from the edge of losing your self to a debilitating condition.  And you'll do it all again tomorrow and more. And each day the task will get easier and the pain will get less."

"I wish I had your confidence babe, I seem to have lost mine today."

"Then we'll go find it Chris, the two of us."

The bell pinged as the oven switched itself off, but they both ignored it.

Chris looked up again into Piers' face, his sad eyes flickered. "Promise me . . ."

"Shh now babe, enough gloomy talk for one day. Take my hand now, come on, shower then bed!"

Piers put a couple of plastic bags over Chris' hands to keep the bandages dry; then sponged him down as they both stood naked under the shower. Chris stood silent and docile whilst Piers dried him off. He took the bags off. At any other time they would have laughed about it, but not today. . .

They lay next to each other, still and quiet. Piers remembered what Mary had said earlier. He leaned over and ran his fingertips over Chris' face, around his ears and lips.

"No Ace, not now." But Piers didn't stop.

"You need some TLC babe. I won't take no for an answer. It's about time I returned the favour. You're no use with those great hams of yours bandaged up anyway. Let me do this Chris, for you."

Chris made to reply, but Piers pressed a finger over the stubbled lips. "Shh my love. This one's on me."

He leant in and pressed his lips over his partner's. His tongue flicked over them and worked its way into Chris' mouth. As it did so, Piers' hands traced down the sides of his Captain's neck and shoulders, to bury themselves in his armpits. Piers' fingers toyed with the thick brown hair, still damp from the shower; his thumbs pressing into the soft tender flesh below the joint. Chris let out a soft moan. Piers' teeth softly bit Chris' lower lip; then his mouth travelled down Chris' chest only to stop at the large brown nipples. He sucked, first one then the other. Chris threw his head back and gasped.

"Unh, Piers, no . . . don't” But Piers paid no heed. His lips and now his hands continued to alternately tease and then caress the hardening points. Chris felt his erection grow as the blood rushed to his cock. Already pre-cum glistened in the slit, he could feel its sweet, sticky presence. Whilst Piers' hands continued to rub and tweak the now erect nubs, his mouth worked down Chris' belly, nipping and tugging at the hairs as they got thicker and coarser. Closer to his ultimate target.

"Huf, no. . . ahh!" Chris felt his self-control slipping away under Piers' persistent attack. Then it went totally.

"Now babe, now!" Chris had felt his balls tighten as his scrotum contracted. Piers' magic had suddenly taken him to a world free of pain and sorrow.

"Please, oh Piers, yes . . .!"

Piers took the thick and veined cock into his mouth. The luscious full lips opening to their fullest extent to admit it, then closing tightly around the shaft. His tongue worked in unison with his lips, but not for long. Chris' arousal was complete and his body jerked in three mighty spasms as his semen forced its way up and out of his body, his back arching in response to his ejaculation.

"Gnh . . .agh . . . uff, Piers, my Piers!" Chris fell back against the bed, panting, his eyes closed in pleasure and exhaustion from his orgasm. He lay silent for some time, whilst Piers diligently extracted the last drops. The sensation was exquisite.

Chris' hands went to stroke Piers head, but the bandages proved too cumbersome. He settled for patting it instead, it was the best he could manage.

"Oh fuck Piers! I've needed that all day. I thought I was going over the edge this morning. You've saved me again my love, bless you."

Piers looked up and smiled, his hazel eyes shining with a mixture of lust and love. "You saved yourself babe. I just pointed you in the right direction." The young sniper snuggled up alongside his partner. They shared a long, intimate silence before Piers spoke again. His voice tender, touched with emotion.

"Chris, it's alright to grieve you know, to show emotion, to be sad. It's right and proper. But life still goes on; Rob would hate to see you become broken as a result of his death. He'd want you to be strong, like I do. He'd want you to look after his family _and_ the BSAA. He'd want you to shoulder the load, just like you did with that beam this morning. Because of who you are. Because he knew you would handle it when no one else could. That's why he chose you to be the godfather of his children. You need to believe in yourself Chris. The way everyone else believes in you. I'm here to help, always have been, always will be."

Piers kissed his Captain, his lover, his soul-mate. Large awkward hands clasped the sniper's face gingerly, yet tenderly. A light returned to the sad brown eyes as Chris replied with his own kiss.

"Alpha to Omega in one day Ace. I guess the only way now is back up?"

"I can't think of anyone more capable of getting there Captain."

************************

Epilogues:

Captain Steven Burrows was nervous when he stood at the podium to give his first public statement on behalf of the BSAA. He needn't have worried. It was to be about the previous day's bombings, but he made all the news himself.

The high velocity bullet only made a small hole entering his forehead, but as it exited in a misty cloud of blood and brains, it made a far larger one.

************************

Mike Lugano knocked once and entered the Directors office. He placed the tray with an espresso dopio and a single-malt scotch on the desk. The Director put down the file he was reading and dabbed at his rheumy eyes with a large spotted blue handkerchief.

"Thank you Gunny, that was an excellent slot this morning."

"Boss."

"The gloves are off now Michael; we must take all precautions from now on my old friend."

"Boss?"

"Yes Michael, what is it?"

"Less of the 'old' please."

"Ha, ha, delightful Michael, very droll."

************************

The day before, the rider on the red Husqvarna never saw the small black helicopter that popped up from the valley alongside the mountain road, taking position above and behind him.

The former Army Ranger sniper calmly settled the cross wires over the red and white helmet, countering the motion of the helicopter. Phfft!

It was a low-velocity bullet. A 'bio-bullet' they had told him, but he'd only been interested in its ballistic characteristics, not its contents.

The bike wobbled slightly. "Bingo, you're slotted!" The handsome young man behind the reflective Ray-Bans grinned. "Job done." He raised the forefinger of his gloved right hand and made a twirling motion. The chopper pilot pulled up and away in response.

The bike remained upright for a while, and then gradually began to veer towards the crash barrier whilst the helicopter flew back down into the valley.

Already the young sniper had a fearsome reputation in the 'Family'. Adam Nivans smiled to himself, now there were two who never missed their target.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters 'Justin' and 'Adam Nivans' are head canon from my good friend Theosymphany, and used with his permission. Their characterisations here are my own creation.


	5. Red, Yellow and Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day after the bomb attacks and the disbanding of Alpha Team. Jill and Chris try and co-operate. The Captain takes charge of Security and begins to investigate Sergeant Cortez. We also catch up with what's been happening to Jake Muller and Sherry Birkin. Meanwhile back on base, Finn and Danny are having problems of their own.

 

 

Previously:

"Alpha to Omega in one day Ace. I guess the only way now is back up?"

"I can't think of anyone more capable of getting there Captain."

************************

It was Tuesday morning, the day after the bombings, when Colonel Valentine issued the new SOU assignments. She had been up most of the previous night with her aide, getting them finalised and written up. Although issued to all concerned on the intranet, they were also 'posted' on various notice boards located around the base. Small groups of soldiers and support staff could be seen reading them with interest. The changes were to be implemented with effect from 00:01 hours Wednesday. There was to be an explanatory briefing for all of the SOUs at 14:00 on Tuesday. Attendance mandatory.

Jill spent the early part of Tuesday morning with Chris Redfield. She still felt guilty about the way Dee had tried to use him; but was also conscious that he would be helping her deal with the FBI's investigations from now on. She wanted to make sure he understood the BSAA 'party' line; and more importantly, to follow it. She also wanted to see how he was. She well understood the emotional strain he'd been under. She'd had enough of her own bad experiences to appreciate the problem.

He still looked tired and red-eyed when they met: but he had shaved and brushed his hair. Well, Piers had probably done it for him she reflected, as she looked at the freshly bandaged hands. She wondered why everyone seemed to treat Chris like a favourite son, to be mollycoddled and spoilt. She had had to claw her way up the chain of command. No one gave her a helping hand. Then she realised why, because he commanded both respect _and_ affection. She could manage one, but not both.

"Chris, how are you feeling today?" She sensed he seemed calmer than the day before, perhaps it was the tiredness.

"Fine thank you Jill, first day towards recovering Alpha Team." He was still a little distant. "I saw Mary and the kids first thing; I gave them your regards."

'Oh dear, it's still going to be difficult.' she thought. She tried to smile brightly. "Thanks for that Chris, how are they this morning?"

"They're still in shock. I don't think Mary slept much last night; but the other wives are rallying round, and then there are the funeral arrangements to be made. Lieutenant Casey is organising a move into married quarters today. Keeping busy is probably the best medicine for Mary right now. For me as well. Piers said I had to shoulder the load, believe in myself; be the Captain Redfield every one expects. So here I am, down but not out."

"He's so good for you Chris; I couldn't imagine a better partner." Jill gave him a hug.

"Hey, don't go all girly on me Colonel Valentine, or I will be confused." He kissed the top of her head briefly. "Um, right, where de we start?"

She could see he was trying hard to be professional, Colonel and Captain working together. 'OK I'll run with that' she thought, 'I can do _formal_ , it's the other stuff that's always so damned hard.'

"Well, two main issues: Find Sergeant Cortez and maintain base security. I'm not sure which is more important. Cortez hasn't been seen since Sunday evening, present whereabouts unknown. Based on the circumstantial evidence so far; the FBI seems to think he's behind both bombings. I'm inclined to agree. You?"

"Almost certainly. There was something about his eyes Jill; they were cloudy, soulless. His run-ins with Rob probably triggered it all; but there was a connection with Burrows too, the homophobic thing."

Chris wasn't sure if Jill was in the know about Dee's suspicions regarding Burrows. His being part of the new bioterrorism grouping targeting the BSAA.

"Burrows might be involved somehow." He knew he was fishing.

Jill's response was equally guarded. "Yes, Dee may have mentioned something about Burrows."

"Right then . . .” said Chris slowly. It was stupid, they both knew the other knew, but their loyalty to Dee was strong. Sometimes the Director's secrecy worked against itself. He continued.

"As for base security, it needs a complete overhaul, both staff and ethics. Burrows just about filled it with his goons, they need to be re-educated or replaced. Either way that will take time. For now we will have to leave things as they are, shift rotas, manning levels. We can't afford to get rid of all the rotten apples in one go. Fortunately they've got their hands full with the base being on heightened security. No time for mischief making. I'll brief them later and make it plain that Burrow's era is over. New management, new rules . . . Mine! But it'll take time to implement fully; weeks not days."

"That sounds good, and Burrows is Dee's problem now. Let's concentrate on Cortez then. Known associates on base?"

"Rob said the guy was a loner, but he had two stooges in tow when I ran into him; MP Corporals Higgs and Moffat. Have they been seen by the Feds?"

"No. Dee wanted us to pedal the fact that Cortez was the solitary type. So that's the line I've been pushing with the FBI."

"OK, I'll start with them then." Chris rubbed his left hand over the knuckles of his right as he clenched it into a fist. He almost raised a smile.

"Easy Chris, don't go charging in with all guns blazing, not this time. Dee wants the BSAA's own investigations to be hidden from the FBI. Let them do the running in public, we provide all assistance, etc; but we conduct our enquiries quietly, in private. Capiche?"

"OK Jill, I'll behave . . . Er, how is Mike by the way?"

She froze in horror. "What!"

"Ha, got you. You've never said capiche in all the years I've known you. Mike Lugano uses it quite often." Chris tried to look innocent, but failed. "Hmm, must be catching."

Jill narrowed her eyes, 'Damn it, does everyone know?' she wondered.

"Not another word Redfield. A girl needs her privacy."

"Hey, I'm happy for you, believe me. Mike's a great guy, despite the _gun_ thing!"

"Well, it would seem that I fall for a certain type then. Just call me old fashioned."

"Never, at least not to your face." At last he managed a grin; then he sighed. "We had some good times Jill. And you deserve some happiness now, after . . .” He paused, he wasn't quite sure how to phrase the next part, “. . . after those lonely years."

She blinked; she'd forgotten how much she missed this gentle sparring. She could feel her eyes about to tear-up. "Th . . . thanks Chris, that means a lot . . . especially coming from you."

"And thank you, for the security thing I mean. Something to get my teeth into whilst I get Alpha back together."

"Oh, you'll get it back before too long if I'm any judge. And the security 'thing' was really Piers' idea. I just rubber stamped it." She smiled, “Thank him, not me."

"I might just do that, later."

Jill was just about to comment when the secure phone buzzed. She walked over and picked it up.

"Colonel Valentine . . . hello Dee . . . yes . . . What! . . . Oh my god, when? . . . That's terrible. No one else? . . . Just him. Any idea who? . . . Cortez again? What do you want me to do? . . . OK, yes . . . alright . . . the UN? Well it was going to happen. Yes, I'm controlling things here. Chris is in the loop . . . good. OK . . . Yes Dee, I understand . . . I will, yes . . . goodbye."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "What now?"

"Burrows has been shot, assassinated, giving a news conference. We think its Cortez again."

"We?"

"Dee, the BSAA, the FBI, the UN, I don't know; that's the word he used."

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I was sorry. It might give us a time and location for Cortez, if it was him. But he wouldn't hang around after that. Anyway, it's out of our hands now. The Feds will run with it. It's way too public for us to get involved in here. So it changes nothing. I'll go find Higgs and Moffat. I'm looking forward to getting re-acquainted with those two."

"Alright Chris. But remember, go gently!"

"See, that's it, you always did spoil my fun."

Jill took a long breath. "I'm sorry about Alpha Chris, it wasn't personal please believe me. It's not an easy job you know. People think I'm a first-class bitch."

He brushed a large hand against her cheek. "I know Jill. A little more warmth and a lot less 'Colonel' might help. I'll fight you over Alpha; but I've got your six kiddo. Always have."

He left before she could reply, but she stood by the phone touching her cheek where his hand had been for a minute afterwards. 'Damn it Chris, where did it all go wrong?' And this time the tears did flow.

************************

June 2014: As usual Sherry Birkin had spent the weekend with Jake Muller in his tiny South Brooklyn apartment. It was an old brownstone building in an area known as Red Hook; near the container docks. The district was run-down, and the wonderful views of the Statue of Liberty across the upper bay were poor recompense.

Sherry was never quite sure how he spent his initial allowance from the BSAA; it certainly wasn't on the apartment. She knew most of it went on entertaining his friends. Well, friends was something of a misnomer. A group of leeches who had latched on to the former mercenary was more like it. His striking looks and exotic background attracted a bohemian crowd. It wasn't unusual for her to have to lend him money after a round of heavy partying. She knew she couldn't tell him he was mixing with the wrong crowd. Hell, it was hard to tell Jake anything. So she resigned herself to picking up the pieces as required and being his rock. As much as it rankled with him, he was still valuable property.

After six months away, he'd come back from the middle-east and rung her out of the blue when he arrived in New York. He was still cagey when asked about what had gone on there. But it had obviously provided him with an adrenalin rush to begin with. However, when the situation in Syria became particularly unpleasant he had lost his idealism. It had been shattered by constant exposure to man's inhumanity to man. So he returned to the only person he'd ever loved apart from his mother Anna; to Sherry Birkin. And she still loved him. How could she not? They had been through so much together. But he came back a very bitter and disillusioned man. He had never developed an adequate coping mechanism; so he reverted to the only Plan B he knew. Look after Number One.

************************

The Present: Base security was run from a single-storey building next to the operations block. It contained a series of offices, interview rooms and a couple of rarely used cells. There was also a small recreation room for off-duty personnel. Today it was empty, manning was stretched tight. The admin staff had been expecting Chris' arrival, some less enthusiastically than others. Chris recognised Sergeant MacDonald who was occupying the reception desk when he entered. The bluff grey-haired Scot saluted smartly. He had moved to Canada when he left the British Army, then later married an American and joined STARS. He was one of the old guard.

"Captain, good to see you again sir." MacDonald was also one of the few remaining MP's from the pre-Burrows era. Chris had always dealt with the Sergeant when sorting out Andy Walker's numerous misadventures. Chris' face brightened, a friend in need.

"Mac, how are you?" he said as he returned the Scot's salute.

"We've been expecting you Captain. And just in the nick o' time, if ye' catch ma' drift? This place was going to wrack and ruin. I'm sorry to hear about Captain Ellis and Alpha, but we need you here too, wi' out a'dout."

"Thanks Mac, I'll get Alpha back, it's only temporary; but first we're gonna' find the bomber and fix Burrow's legacy. You've heard the news?"

"Aye, God rest his soul. This whole business, it's terrible."

"Well, you're going to help me sort it out Mac. First, get me a list of all the men you trust ASAP. Then I want Corporals Higgs and Moffat here in separate rooms, keep them apart, you understand? Oh, and do it quietly please Mac, no fuss."

"Aye Captain, leave it to me. Oh, your aide, Sergeant Dowler, he's one of Burrows' men, a little ferret-faced weasel. I would nae' trust him further than I could throw him. Ye 'ken Captain?"

"I 'ken very well Mac, thanks for the tip."

Chris walked into to his 'new' office. It was plush, very plush. Burrows had certainly made himself comfortable; it must have been twice the size of Chris' own office. Chris looked around in disdain. In his experience the more untidy an office was, the more likely it was a place where _real_ work was done. This one looked more like a glossy picture from a marketing ad. As he sat down uncomfortably in the shiny leather chair, a thin-faced Sergeant entered.

"Ah, Captain Redfield, I didn't see you come in, welcome. Sgt Dowler Sir."

"Thank you Sergeant. I want a full manning list, current shift arrangements, fixed and mobile patrol team compositions, that sort of thing. Rank, full name, time in post . . . that will do for starters."

Yes, Sir, I'll get one of the Corporals to . . ."

"No, Sergeant, you do it, and now please, handwritten will suffice."

"Er, yes Sir."

The Sergeant looked somewhat displeased as he left. 'You ain't seen nothing yet kiddo' Chris thought. And Mac was right; he did look like a weasel.

Mac came in with his list. It had 5 names on it; including his own.

Chris ran his hands through his hair. "Jeez Mac, is that it? Five!"

"That's it Captain. There's perhaps another 4 good lads transferred internally here on base, like young Danny frae' instance. And a couple who went up to Headquarters. Here, I'll add them tae the list."

"Hmm, it's going to be a slow process Mac. We're gonna' have to re-educate some of Burrows goons. And perhaps we can get some of these guys back. But first Higgs and Moffat. They might have some idea about Cortez's movements. Get someone from this list to go with you when you round 'em up. Don't let them talk to one another, OK?"

"Right Captain. Are they to be under arrest then?"

"No . . . no, tell them it's protective custody, for their own good. You just might let slip that some of the SOU guys have learnt of their being pals with Cortez though."

"What a grand idea Captain! Oh, this is going tae be fun."

Mac returned about half an hour later. He went straight into Chris' office, ignoring the protests of Dowler who was used to screening all visitors.

"Captain Redfield, your guests have arrived."

"Thanks Mac, show me the way."

Dowler had been listening at the door.

"Captain, we do have procedures for guests, I really . . ."

"You 'really' must finish those lists I asked for. You can do it whilst you man the reception desk. Sergeant MacDonald will be my aide from now on. Carry on Dowler."

"But, I really do . . ."

Chris stood up and walked over to Dowler, his eyes turning hard. "If you'd rather be out on a foot patrol I'm sure that can be arranged. Do you good to get out of the office perhaps, some fresh air, plenty of exercise. When's the last time you actually handled a Heckler-Koch?"

"No Sir, thank you. Er, reception will be fine. I'll get the lists finished."

"You do that. Things are going to change around here Sergeant Dowler. I'm a fighting man. You can either help me, or transfer out. I tend not to take prisoners. Put the word around. If anyone wants to leave tell them I can arrange a very swift departure."

"Yes Captain Redfield, understood."

************************

July 2014: Once Jake was settled in his apartment, Sherry had arranged for him to meet Chris Redfield. She knew their differences still festered after China, and they had not met since. Chris flew up from Washington having first met with Dee. The Director had drawn up a package designed to support Jake financially for the long-term. There would be a loose affiliation to the BSAA, nothing binding. Jake still bitterly resented any form of control over his life. It wasn't much, but the hope was the deal would allow Jake to settle down, to give him some stability and help him mature.

That was the plan. The meeting in New York did not start well. Chris had tried to be conciliatory but Jake's attitude remained antagonistic. Chris explained the events that led up to Albert Wesker's death. Jake knew much of it, but Chris had felt it important to explain things from his own point of view. The conversation lapsed into a sullen silence. Sherry suggested something to eat.

"There's a pizza place across the road, I'll get us a take-away."

"Something with ham and pepperoni for me please." Said Chris.

"Tuna for me doll-face, red meat clogs the arteries. You should watch it Jarhead. One day, boom! Your dead!" He made a 'gun' with his hand and pointed it at Chris.

Chris's eyes hooded as he stared straight at Jake. "Make that with extra ground beef as well please Sherry."

After she'd gone they sat and stared at one another in silence. Eventually Jake got up to get a beer from the kitchen; he didn't offer to get one for Chris. He came back in and stood behind Chris' chair. He pushed the 9mm into the nape of Chris' neck, just below the hair line.

"Why don't I just shoot you now?"

Even Jake was surprised by the strength in the Captain's arms. Chris reached up and grabbed Jake's gun arm with both hands. He grunted as his upper body flexed and pulled Jake over his head in a graceful arc. Jake crashed through the glass coffee table as he landed on his back.

"Fuck you Redf . . .!"

Jake's cursing was cut short as Chris' hands grasped his windpipe; but he had his own strength, enhanced by the C-virus. He brought the gun in his hand up and smashed it into the side of Chris' head, just above his left eye.

"Gahh, you little shit! Most people would have instinctively reached up to their eye. But Chris Redfield's instinct was to remove the threat first. He increased the pressure on Jake's larynx with his left hand whilst his right sought out and grabbed the hand holding the gun. He twisted it hard, up, against the wrist joint. Jake's free hand clawed at Chris' face, his fingers trying to gouge his eyes. Then a Beretta pistol came between both their straining faces.

"Stop it, stop it!" Sherry had to scream to get their attention.

The blood from the gash above Chris' eye dripped onto the purple face of Jake Muller below. The two men glared at one another, panting heavily, gulping in lungfuls of air.

"Get up, the pair of you. Your meant to be on the same side for God's sake!"

Chris and Jake slowly got up, eyeing one another warily. Sherry saw the wound on Chris' head.

"Here, let me take care of that Chris. It looks bad."

He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand.

"Thanks, but you're the one who needs to take care Sherry. With one exception he's just like his father."

"Oh yeah soldier boy? What's that?"

"Your father's dead!"

Jake tensed up, eager to carry on the fight, but Sherry stood between them, gun still in hand. "I'll use this on the next person that throws a punch. I mean it."

Chris picked up his jacket and pulled an envelope from the inside pocket. He handed it to Sherry.

"Here, see if you can get him to agree to this. It involves money so you should have his attention. Personally, I don't give a damn any more, he can go screw himself." Chris turned to leave.

"This ain't over Redfield; one day you won't have a woman to protect you, or that toy-boy of yours!"

Every fibre in Chris' body screamed revenge for the taunt. If Sherry hadn't been there one of them would have been dead by now. He forced himself to stay calm. He smiled at Sherry.

"Take good care of yourself kiddo; you know where to find me." Then he turned and left.

************************

The Present: Chris let his two guests stew on their own for half an hour. Just to get them thinking about what might be to come. He decided to start with Corporal Moffat first. The big-boned man sat fidgeting with his collar when Chris entered. He stood up smartly enough and saluted. Chris returned the salute and looked the young Corporal up and down. 'Hmm, the light's on but is anybody home?' was Chris' first impression. He hadn't really paid him much attention during the run-in with Cortez at the 'Home on the Range' café a few weeks previously. A flat, round face, large soft brown eyes. Bovine was the word that best described the look. 'No assassin's accomplice here; just un-thinking muscle.' The brown eyes looked back at Chris, vacant, blinking, but they didn't flinch.

"Tell me about your association with Sergeant Cortez. Did you help him plant the bombs?"

"N, No Sir. Honest, I didn't know nothing about what he was doing. He didn't talk to me, just Corporal Higgs. All he said was to rough people up a bit, especially the poofs. Make life difficult for them he said. I didn't know he was making bombs. Adam, Corporal Higgs, just said to be out of the barracks by seven o'clock yesterday morning."

"When did he tell you that?"

"About six o'clock Sir. I know 'cos my alarm had just gone off. I didn't know it was going to blow-up. They never told me anything about that. That's the truth Captain; I never wanted to kill anyone."

"But you didn't mind 'roughing them up'?"

"Adam said I was stupid, said I had to prove I wasn't by helping him. He said that's what Captain Burrows wanted." Sergeant Cortez was Adam's friend. He was tough, an SOU soldier. I thought I was in with the real hard men. It made me look tough too . . .' He trailed off and looked down at his feet. He had turned a deep shade of red. "I guess I am stupid after all. What's going to happen Sir? Am I going to prison?"

Chris had been around long enough to recognise honesty, and contrition too; however late in the day it was. He'd also seen too many young soldiers come off the rails and never get back on them because no one helped or cared. Burrows had tried to kill the 'family' ideal of the BSAA. Here was a chance to bring it back.

"Accept my punishment now, and I'll see you don't go to jail. I told you before that if our paths ever crossed again you'd be out of the BSAA. Well this is your lucky day Moffat. It's Captain Redfield's being kind to dumb-fuck's day. You will be reduced in rank to Private, with all the loss of privileges and pay that entails. You will be transferred out of the police section and into administration, specifically the welfare section headed by Lt Casey. Perhaps working to help people, instead of bullying them, will give you a second chance in life. Do you accept my punishment?

"Y, yes, Sir. Th, thank you Sir."

"Good. Report to Lt Casey now, and keep your head down. If I ever see it again, I'll shoot it. And do not discuss this interview with anyone, do you understand?

Moffat nodded, "Yes Sir."

"Dismissed Private."

After Moffat left the room Chris briefly reflected on whether he had the authority to do what he'd just done. How many rules and contractual arrangements he'd broken. He'd probably created a pile of paperwork at the very least. He shrugged his large shoulders. Oh well, Dowler could sort that out, delegation, one of the better principles of military authority he always thought.

He picked up the phone. "Hi, Susie? . . . yes, Captain Redfield. That muscle you wanted? It's on it's way over, attached to a rather stupid ex-military policeman . . . Yes, OK . . . work him hard, and show him the meaning of welfare. Sgt Dowler will be handling the paperwork . . . yeah, that's the one, like a weasel . . . goodbye Susie . . . OK, my pleasure."

Chris' interview with Moffat had been short; he expected the one with Higgs to be somewhat longer.

Chris entered the room. Higgs stood up and saluted. He was sweating, and couldn't hold Chris' gaze.

Chris smiled at him.

"At ease Corporal, this is just an informal chat, do sit down, please. Some of the men seem to think you are involved with what's been going on. I'm just trying to establish the truth. Alright?"

"Sir."

"Sgt, would you get Corporal Higgs some water please, he looks a little pale."

Mac returned shortly with a beaker from the water-chiller in reception. He put it down by Higgs' side; looked at Chris and winked. Chris maintained his conciliatory face whilst Higgs took a drink.

"Just been chatting to your friend, Moffat. Most informative." Higgs scowled, but he didn't reply.

"The FBI seem to think your other friend, Sergeant Cortez, is behind all this. They're asking about known associates, you know the sort of thing?"

"Sir."

"Strange guy Cortez, bit of a loner. Come to think of it, apart from Bravo Team, the only other people I've seen him with are you and Moffat. Think about it."

Higgs drank some more water, his hands trembling as he picked up the cup. He spilt some down his chin and wiped it of with the back of his hand. Chris smiled at him kindly.

"There now, alright? Tell me about early Monday morning. What exactly did Cortez tell you?"

“He said . . ." Higgs stopped; he knew he'd just walked into a trap.

"Said what? Take your time; I'm only trying to understand things. OK?"

"He said, um, he said he wanted to see me and Moffat, at breakfast."

"And did you?"

"No, he didn't show up."

"Oh and when did he tell you this?"

"A . . . about 06:30."

"Sergeant MacDonald, will you get me all the gate logs for Sunday night through Monday morning."

Chris remained silent until the Sergeant returned.

"There you go Captain, just there." Mac pointed a finger at an entry for the main gate. Chris smiled at Higgs again.

"Well I'm not surprised he didn't show up. These logs say he left the base at half past five Monday morning. And . . .” Chris glanced through the other logs, ". . . no, he didn't return. Hasn't been seen since."

Chris' palms hit the desk so hard the cup fell over, the water running towards Higgs, dripping down between his legs. Higgs let out a frightened gasp.

"Urgh!"

Mac had seen the look in Chris' eyes change a moment before he hit the desk. The warm brown had gone dark in an instant.

"We have 6 injured, one in intensive care. A collapsed building. You could have stopped that. And you can't even lie properly you fucking little shit! My best friend was killed yesterday and your former Boss shot in the head this morning. I can't wait to turn you over to the Feds when we've finished here. Accomplice to attempted murder, withholding information. They'll throw away the keys!"

Higgs had started to cry, his head in his hands.

"Here, use this." Chris gave him his handkerchief. Higgs blew his nose and mopped up the snot that had started to run from it. "Now tell me the truth. What precisely happened?"

"Ca . . . Captain Burrows, he wanted me to bully people, told me when I got the job. I met Sergeant Cortez, he . . . he used to hang out in Burrow's office a lot. We used to cause trouble, you saw the sort of thing we . . . sob." His shoulders shook as he struggled to regain his composure. "Then Cortez had an argument with the Captain. He asked me to spy on Macauley and his b . . . boyfriend, Svenson. When they met, where. It was always in Macauley's room. On Sunday night I saw them both go up the stairs, to the roof, so I told Cortez."

"When was that? The truth this time Higgs."

"About f . . . four o'clock Sir. He came over to the block about an hour later, just after five; he had a holdall with him. He said it was a bomb, said he was sick of Redfield's gays everywhere. He hid it in Macauley's room I suppose, whilst I kept watch. When he came back he said it was set for seven, for me and Moffat to be somewhere else. He told me to keep quiet. He said it wasn't Burrows I was dealing with. He said they meant business."

"Who? Who's 'they' Higgs? Did you ever see him with any strangers?"

"No, Sir, never, he was always on his own. He . . . he said Burrows was a frikin' amateur. He said this lot, he didn't say who, he said this lot mean business. He said with Burrows gone we'd be chucked out soon, to go quietly. He gave me some money then left . . .” Higgs’ voice trailed of.

"Did he say anything else, where he was going? Damn it Higgs, this is important!" Chris' hands hit the desk again. Higgs jumped.

"I . . . I asked him. He told me to fuck off. To keep quiet or we'd be dead meat. Are they gonna' get me Captain? I don't want . . . sob . . . I don't want to die. I'm sorry . . . please?" He started crying again.

Chris didn't know why, but he put his hand on the Corporals shoulder. "No Higgs, you’re not going to die. Not any time soon; there's been enough killing. But you are almost certainly going to jail." Higgs began to wail.

"Get him some more water Mac, and call Colonel Valentine. Tell her I need to see her ASAP. Shape up Corporal, I'll tell her you've made a free and full confession. It might help some, I don't know. She'll want to talk to you afterwards. Tell her what you've told me. And anything else that you can remember.

"Th . . . thank you Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't know anything about Captain Ellis, I swear. I just thought he wanted to teach your Corporals a lesson. I didn't want to kill anyone, honest, I didn't." He face crumpled up again in despair.

"Colonel Valentine's free now Captain." said Mac as he returned with the water. "Here laddie, drink this and dry your tears. You man-up for the Colonel, alright?"

"Put him in one of the holding cells for now Mac. And keep a watch on him. I need to speak to the Colonel first, then we'll formalise the charges. I won't be long."

************************

January 2015: The phone rang, and rang. Jake was watching TV, two chicks fighting it out on a re-run of Jerry Springer. It continued to ring. 'Fuck, that's annoying.' He picked it up.

"This had better be good."

"Er, Mr Wesker? Is that Jacob Wesker, son of Ms Anna Muller, deceased?"

Silence.

"Ms Anna Muller from Edonia?"

"Yes, from a shit hole called Eskavar."

"Um, was your father Albert Wesker, also deceased?"

"I know who my father was, even if the sonofabitch was a no show. More to the point, who the fuck are you?"

"My name is Pierre Girot. I'm your lawyer, in Geneva. It's taken a long, long time to find you Sir."

Jake processed the information. He didn't know who the hell Pierre was, but he liked the sound of having a lawyer. And he loved the sound of _Sir_.

"Go on, I'm listening Mr Pierre."

"I have some news for you Mr Wesker, some very good news. You are a very wealthy young man. Extremely wealthy in fact." The scowl on Jake's face suddenly disappeared. He began to smile; the conversation had just gotten interesting.

"Go ahead Pierre; you have my full attention . . ."

************************

"Ow, please don't do that Jake, I explained before, it hurts, girls don't like that. If you're going to rub them, do it upwards, not down. It's just not nice."

Abruptly he stopped fondling Sherry's breasts.

"Damnit! Don't tell me what to do!" He pulled out roughly, even though he was already hard inside her. It hurt them both.

"Bastard! What is it with you Jake? I try so hard. Just what am I to you?"

The cold blue eyes stared at her, filled with a mixture of anger and love. He didn't know the answer himself.

"Get dressed doll, I've got a visitor in less than an hour. Shit, look at this mess!" He picked up his shorts from the floor and wiped himself clean. "I'm taking a shower . . ."

"Sherry cleaned herself up as best she could and got dressed. She didn't cry, she'd gotten used to Jake's tantrums. She knew he'd be sorry when he calmed down later. No one else put up with him the way she did, they both knew it. But she still had her pride. She waited awhile, checked her watch, then let herself out quietly.

She walked down the dimly lit corridor to the lift. As usual it was out of action. She paused for a moment, then messed up her neat blond hair, pulled the cleavage of her red dress down a lot and popped some gum into her mouth. She tottered on her high heels towards the stairs. This was her 'Pretty Woman’ guise. You never knew who you would meet on these stairs. She hated the dress, hated the gum, hated the persona. And for the moment she hated Jake Muller.

On the landing below she met a middle-aged man coming up, business suit, very smart, 5' 10", around 140lbs, grey eyes, medium length black hair. She memorised his appearance.

"Excuse me, er . . . Miss? Do you know where I can find Jacob Wesker?"

"Jacob who sweetheart? Whisker? Who wants ta' know?"

"Wesker, I'm his lawyer."

"Well lah-di-dah honey! Ain't no one here called Whisker. There's a Jake or something upstairs. Apartment 36. Guy's an asshole, always having parties, ask him." She teetered at the top of the stairs. 'Jake doesn't have a lawyer, he wouldn't pay for one.' she thought, then she almost fell and her shiny leather bag went flying. The man picked it up.

"Here you go Miss, you dropped this."

Was that a French accent? She smiled and blew a bubble of gum. "Why thank you Mr Lah-di-dah, you got manners, you must be foreign, no one here's got manners." She fluttered her eyelashes.

He laughed, "Yes, Swiss as a matter of fact. Well, I must see if I can find Mr er, 'Whisker'. Be careful now, hold on to that rail."

"See ya' later gator . . .” and she carried on click-clacking down the stairs. '. . . and thank you so much for the fingerprints.' she thought, as she put the bag carefully over her shoulder.

************************

The Present: Chris found Jill still preparing for her afternoon briefing. She looked up from a pile of paperwork.

"So, what's the emergency Chris? I'm pretty busy right now as you can see."

"I've just interviewed Higgs and Moffat. It would seem Cortez wasn't operating alone, but had some kind of backup, separate from Burrows. I don't know who or how many. But they sound professional and threatening. That's about all."

"You’re sure of this, Higgs and Moffat are not lying to get themselves of the hook?"

"Not if I'm any judge, their two stories check out, I reduced one to tears, I'm pretty sure they were genuine."

Jill looked at him in exasperation. "What did I say about going gently?"

"And there's me thinking you might say thank you. This is our first independent confirmation of Dee's beliefs, that this whole business is orchestrated somehow."

"What have you done with them?"

"Moffat has been drafted to help welfare move Mary Ellis into quarters. He didn't know anything about Cortez. He'll be out of the way there. Higgs, on the other hand, is a problem. He's the one who Cortez spoke to, acted as his eyes and ears when he planted the bomb in Finn's room. From what you've said, we need to keep him away from the Feds. Any ideas?"

"Some, none of them healthy options!"

"Let's talk to Dee, he usually has a plan."

"Hmm, usually, not always though." Jill gave Chris a resigned look.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he's not infallible Chris. I know you think he is, but he's only human, like the rest of us."

Chris looked at his old partner keenly. He knew she was hiding something, only it would have to wait for now. But not for the first time he got the feeling that he and Jill were working to different agendas.

Jill locked the door then dialled the Director. She put the phone on speaker. Chris told Dee word for word what had come out of both interviews . . .

"Excellent Christopher dear boy; confirmation indeed. And only your first morning. I knew putting you in charge after Burrows was the right thing to do, ha ha."

Jill almost choked on hearing the words, but quickly recovered.

"Dee, we need to keep Higgs away from the FBI. Any ideas?"

"Well Gillian my dear, you could always shoot him . . ."

"You are joking?"

"Only partly Gillian, it is an excellent way of ensuring silence. I suspect our friend Cortez may find that out. Any news on him?"

"Not since he left the base early Monday morning" said Chris.

"And what about this motor cyclist young Piers saw? Could that have been Cortez? "

"Piers didn't think so." Chris replied. "Cortez was short and stocky, Piers said the biker looked leaner, taller, but it was hard to tell under full leathers and the helmet. No clear id."

"Then you must find Cortez. Are the FBI trawling local video footage, any sighting of him or his car?"

"Er, this isn't the city Dee, not too many CCTV cameras around here. Jill's nodding, so I guess they are. I'll check with the local police, see what they have. We've got good relations there. If he used an interstate, he'll be on their videos."

"Yes Christopher dear boy, please check. Though I think he's too professional for that. He'll use the back roads, or a stolen vehicle, it's what I would do."

"What about Higgs?" said Jill.

"Hmm, leave it with me my dears. Charge him with prejudicial conduct for the time being, pending further investigation. I need to make some urgent phone calls, see if I can get the dogs called off. The General Secretary has been on the phone constantly, wanting updates, results. He's no idea what's really involved of course; couldn't be trusted to keep quiet if he did. It's not as if he's particularly fond of the BSAA anyway, gobbling up resources that could achieve better publicity for him elsewhere. No matter. I'll try and get an answer by 17:00, I'll call then . . . puff . . .You should be finished briefing by then Gillian I expect . . . puff. Until then my obedient rebels, I suggest you keep Higgs quietly under lock and key. If I can get the FBI focussed solely on Cortez, we'll have a clearer field. And we can, er, dispose of Corporal Higgs later. Ha, ha, Gillian I can see your face now! Goodbye."

Chris smiled to himself, he couldn't help it. "Come on 'Gillian', you can speak to Higgs yourself. Lets get a proper statement from him and formalise the charges."

"Chris?"

"Yes?"

"If you ever use that name again I'll break your arm; however big it is! Capiche?"

He grinned, "Si, Colonello."

************************

By a quarter to two the main briefing room was full. The early birds managed to get seats, but the others stood crowded at the back of the room. No one wanted to be too close to the dais where Jill stood by the lectern, flanked by the SOU Captains. Other heads of sections were also seated there, including Chris in his capacity as head of security.

At 14:00 precisely Jill commenced the briefing.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, this briefing is classified CONFIDENTIAL. I will be detailing the new SOU Team assignments and also our investigations into the tragic deaths of Captain Ellis and Captain Burrows as well as the . . ."

"Burrows was an asshole." "Good riddance." "Where's Cortez?" The calls came from the back, but there was a murmur of agreement throughout the room.

"Gentlemen, let me finish . . ."

"What about Alpha?" "Why all these changes?"

"Look I understand your concerns . . ."

"What about the bombing here?" "We've got six guys injured Colonel, or have you forgotten?" Suddenly there was a rising hubbub of noise throughout the room.

"Gentlemen . . . gent . . .” Jill couldn't be heard. "CLASS!" She shouted over the comments. "If you want to behave like schoolboys, I'm happy to be the headmistress!"

"Whoo, have you got a cane Miss?" "Spank me!"

Things were getting rowdy. The pent-up anger and frustration of the last 24 hours were beginning to show. Jill could feel her own anger rising and her skin reddening. She gripped the sides of the lectern; she was just about to lose it.

Chris didn't mind a bit of back chat; to him it showed that the guys cared. But he was not going to accept any personal disrespect. The last few comments had been way off-line. He stood up slowly, then brought his two fists together. His hard eyes flicked over a number of soldiers at the back of the room. He didn't say a word as silence fell.

"Carry on please Colonel." He sat down, still glaring.

"Thank you Captain. I'll begin again, starting with the SOU's . . ."

************************

Branna looked at Finn as he sat in his wheelchair holding Danny's hand; the only part accessible to him. She thought Finn looked tired this evening, depressed. She knew how he fretted if he missed a visit by the Doctors, preferring to sleep in the wheelchair rather than use his bed. He wasn't getting enough proper rest. She also knew he would probably be suffering from delayed shock. Her heart went out to him; he seemed so bereft, so lost. Before she even thought about it she found herself kneeling in front of the miserable young Corporal.

"Oh my poor Finn, here, let me help you." She put one hand on his lap and the other around his head. Her fingers were long and delicate, the nails short and unvarnished. She kissed him and felt his penis twitch beneath his pyjamas in response.

"Mmff, Branna, n, no! Please don't . . ." Yet instinctively his hands came up to her face as he found himself returning her kiss. The hand on his lap slipped inside his fly. She felt the warm softness of his balls against the solid muscle of his thigh, the thickened patch of hair. "Branna, ahh, nooo . . !"

Her hand slipped around his rapidly hardening member and he gasped in response. She pulled it free and bent her head down.

"My poor lost soldier, you look so alone . . ."

Finn could feel his restraint crumbling; he had missed Danny's touch so much. The pent-up tensions from the bombing and Danny's injuries finally surfaced and overwhelmed him. His loins craved for release. He closed his eyes as wave after wave of ecstasy suddenly swept through his body.

"Oh Branna . . . forgive me Dan!"

Unseen, Danny's hand twitched, the fingers gripping the tan shemagh.

Danny had been walking with Finn for ever. Naked, hand-in-hand, they walked over soft green hills and lush pastures, the grass sprang under their tread, wet with dew. They would kiss and open their eyes to broad wheat-fields, the ripened ears waving like a sea of endless gold. And always the sun on their backs, the heat intense, almost heavy. Danny could feel it across his broad shoulders, the backs of his thighs and calves. Yet whichever way they walked, it always remained behind them.

Finn reached up to kiss the Danny's Adams apple, when he looked up he saw the autumn leaves in the forest, _Red Yellow and Gold_. As Danny's gaze followed his lovers, the leaves turned to a thousand stars set in a silky black sky. Night, and yet still his back felt hot. Suddenly the stars disappeared. The heat on his back and legs became fierce, it hurt. In the darkness he put out his hand to hold onto Finn's, only to find he was alone. He called out in panic.

"Finney!"

The brain pressure monitor stuttered, the trace rising upwards from green to yellow. When it reached orange the heart rate and blood pressure began to move in conjunction. First one alarm beeped, then another. And then all hell broke loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5: Lots of dialogue here, but I wanted to draw the characters out, especially their relationships with one another.


	6. Dead Men Do Tell Tales (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BSAA strike it lucky in the search for Cortez. Piers' first outing as Captain of Bravo sees him relish the task. Chris and Jill begin to get some answers for Dee. And as Robin Ellis is laid to rest, Danny is brought out of the induced coma. More shocks are in store.

 

Previously in Danny's dream:

Finn reached up to kiss Danny's Adam's apple. As he looked up he saw the autumn leaves in the forest, Red Yellow and Gold. When Danny's gaze followed his lover's, the leaves turned to a thousand stars set in a silky black sky. Night, and yet still his back felt hot. Suddenly the stars disappeared. The heat on Danny's back and legs became fierce, it hurt. In the darkness he put out his hand to hold onto Finn's, only to find he was alone. He called out in panic.

_Finney!_

The brain pressure monitor stuttered, the trace rising upwards from green to yellow. When it reached orange the heart rate and blood pressure began to move in conjunction. First one alarm beeped, then another. And then all hell broke loose.

************************

"Oh Feck . . . sorry Holy Mother . . . I mean crap!" said Branna, still bent down over Finn. She quickly grabbed a medical wipe, cleaned her hands then muted the alarms. Finn had soon lost his sense of sexual euphoria.

"Branna? What's happening? . . . Oh, Dan, I shouldn't have left you, it's all my fault." he wailed.

The duty doctor arrived with the anesthesiologist.

"What happened nurse?"

"He just spiked doctor, for no apparent reason. His readings suggest he's trying to wake up, look."

"Hmm, you could be right. He's strong. He might be ready but we're not." The doctor looked at his colleague." "What do you think?"

"No, he needs another couple of days at least. Let me see, he's on .3 milk of amnesia. Let's put that up to .5 straight away, then gradually bring it back down after 30 minutes." He made some adjustments to the automatic dispenser. Within a few second Danny's readings began to fall, back into the green, one by one the warning lights went out.

"Sorry? Milk of amnesia?" said Finn, "What's that?"

The anesthesiologist turned to him and smiled. "Ah, our budding intern. It's a play on milk of magnesia." Finn looked puzzled. "Err, it's a doctors joke. Actually it's called Propofol and has a milky white appearance. Hence the name. Your friend is fighting its effects, that's a good sign. But it's too early for us just yet. Don't worry, he'll be fine."

The doctor looked closely at Finn. "You, however, look extremely tired; I think you should get back into bed and rest. And that's an order!" They helped Branna put a complaining Finn back into his cot. "Here, you can experience a low dose of Propofol yourself. Just enough to make you sleepy. Nurse, would you please?"

As Branna administered the injection the two medical officers chatted.

"Fancy a round this weekend?"

"Oh, I'd love too, but rumour control says we might be busy with SOU ops. Do you know, I even heard someone suggest these attacks were aimed at Captain Redfield."

"Bearfield? He was here yesterday. I had to put some stitches in his hands. He looked dreadful."

"Well, wouldn't you with that on your conscience?"

"Branna! . . . "

"Hush my poor lost soldier." she said kindly as she mopped his brow with a cooling wipe. "Everything will be alright, sure it will. Close your eyes now."

"Attacks? . . . Captain? . . ." Finn drifted off into a troubled sleep.

************************

Dee called at 17:00 exactly. Jill and Chris were already in the briefing room, awaiting his call.

"Gillian, Christopher, my dears. Good news, the dogs have been called off, a favour owed me by DSO. That charming Mr Kennedy, ha, ha. The FBI will restrict themselves to investigating Cortez under their guidance. And that will be the official line. All the work of one crazed lunatic. Otherwise we have a free hand. The DSO will maintain a loose watching brief over us, as directed by the President himself."

"That's good news Dee." said Jill, audibly relieved. Now we can deal with Corporal Higgs and pursue any other leads on our own."

"Has there been no progress then Christopher? I am relying on you dear boy."

"No Dee, the FBI has drawn a blank on video camera records. They found Cortez's car at an out of town mall earlier today. It was clean. Nothing since Burrows assassination in Washington."

Yes, I wouldn't worry about that at present. May I suggest you concentrate in your own location, vehicles stolen or missing in the same timeframe. Spread the net wider on video camera data. You know the sort of thing. Leave Washington to me - alright?

"As you wish Dee, but we don't have a lot to go on." Chris looked at Jill, Dee was warning them off Burrows. She shrugged her shoulders.

"And just to keep you busy, the General Secretary has been on the phone again. He wants a full-ceremonial funeral for Captain Ellis with associated media coverage ASAP. He thinks it will be good for the UN's image."

"Don't you think you'd better ask Mary Ellis first Dee? It's her decision after all!" said Jill angrily.

Chris put a finger to his lips.

"That's fine Dee, I happen to agree with the General Secretary for once. Rob deserves it and it will show the BSAA united, not intimidated. Leave it to me."

"Wonderful dear boy! I knew _you_ would understand." It was an obvious dig at Jill. "The Secretary will not be attending himself of course. He's uncomfortable around uniforms as you know. But I shall be accompanying Samantha Power, our permanent representative to the UN."

"Oh, I'd like to meet her." said Jill, perhaps a little too eagerly.

Hmm . . . puff . . . I thought you might dear girl . . . puff. By the book please Christopher, I know you and formal arrangements, ha, ha. I have the reference right here . . ."

"Training Circular No. 3-21.5, 'Drills and Ceremonies'. Yes I know it Dee. You can rely on me."

"Splendid, splendid, keep me informed of progress, the Ambassador has a busy schedule . . .

. . . Oh, please do excuse me, I nearly forgot. How did this afternoon's briefing go?"

"Fine Dee, no problems at all." said Jill.

"I wasn't asking you Gillian dear. Christopher?"

"Oh, it was a little lively at first Dee, but order was soon . . . ahem . . . restored."

"Ha, ha Christopher, the boys were on form then? I do like it when they show spirit . . . especially in the face of adversity. Goodbye then my dears."

The line went dead. Jill gave Chris a hard look.

"You could have backed me up earlier!"

"Jill, it's what I would have wanted for Rob myself. Mary will be fine with it, trust me. And you get to power chat with the Ambassador. Just don't get too close to that particular flame, OK? You know she enjoys Cabinet Level status?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning she has powerful friends . . . and powerful enemies too. Take care with that one. Oh, and as for the briefing, no need to thank me. It really was my pleasure." He left Jill speechless for once.

************************

January 2015: " . . . . so there you have it Sir. In business terms, your total wealth, including stocks, investments and plant is some $280 Billion. Your own personal wealth is more modest, at $17 Billion."

Pierre Girot concluded his presentation to his newly found Boss. Jake Muller had sat silent throughout the last hour, hanging on every word. So, the no-show had come good after all. A publicity-averse, compartmentalised business empire that spanned the globe. Controlling niche markets in nano-technology and molecular surgery, genetic and bio-mechanical engineering. And he was rich. Oh fuck was he rich! Homes everywhere, private jets, the works.

"Is it safe dude? Like, from those spooks at the IRS?"

Oh yes Sir, quite safe. And legal. We follow exactly the letter of the law if not its spirit." Girot allowed himself a small smile. "My father's business prides itself on client protection. In _all_ its forms." Jake raised a thin eyebrow at the emphasis, but said nothing.

"Your own father spent much time structuring his empire. It is his legacy to you. His tragic death prevented him from completing all his plans. But he always intended that you would come to rule after him one day."

"Rule? . . . what the fuck? . . .was he some kinda' King?"

Girot blushed, he still hadn't got used to his employer's style of urban speech.

"Umm, in a manner of speaking Sir. In the years we have been looking for you we have carried out his final instructions to the letter."

"Final instructions? You mean . . . like a will?"

"Yes, in a way. He left many documents with us, some for your eyes only. You will be able to read them at your home in Geneva. In his final written instruction to us, he stated that if said document had been opened, then he had obviously been betrayed, let down by the weakness and failings of those around him. Those too blinkered to understand his glorious vision for humanity. We were to be ruthless in removing them from his business empire. As ruthless as we were to be in protecting and growing that empire. And in finding his son and heir. I hope you will find our work to your satisfaction."

"Hey Mr Pierre, I can think of $17 Billion worth of reasons to be satisfied. So, what's next in Pop's grand scheme?"

"Your plane can leave JFK for Geneva with an hours notice. Please don't concern yourself about paperwork. It will be taken care of en-route; your passport is all you will need. Er, I do not wish to pry Sir, but if you have a significant other, then naturally, we would accommodate them as well; if you so wished."

"Yeah, there's this chick I know. Ha, it kills me, her boss will go mad at the news, the old fart. This day just keeps getting better and better Mr Pierre . . ."

************************

The present, Wednesday morning:

 _Arr-woo!_ The large black Labrador bounded into the undergrowth, tail upright; waving like a flag above the ferns and bracken. _Arr-woo, Arr-woo!_

"Lulu, what is it girl? Wotcha' found?"

The dog continued to bark excitedly as the young hiker ran over.

"Come here girl . . . Eeww, gross! It stinks!" said the boy.

"What is it son? asked a man, still on the path.

It's a . . . It's . . . I dunno Pops, it looks like a melted body!" The boy grabbed the dog's collar. Don't touch it girl, leave it . . ."

************************

The State Forest Ranger made his first call straight to the BSAA base, some hundred miles further south. He'd seen enough crazy shit about monsters and zombies on the news to know this 'what ever it was' wasn't normal.

Piers volunteered Bravo as soon as the mission came up. He wanted to get to know his team outside of the base environment. Plus he had a feeling about this one; his finely tuned senses seemed to be on alert this morning.

During the transit he sat with his No. 2, Lieutenant Pete Carter on one side and Bravos' rookie, Private 'Tom' Thomas on the other.

"What do you think it is Sir? This blob thing?" asked Tom.

Piers smiled as he shrugged his shoulders, "Absolutely no idea Tom. It doesn't do to go into any Op with preconceived ideas. It blinkers your mind, stops you thinking freely when you're on the spot. Do you understand?"

"I guess so Captain, but surely you must have some idea to start with. Like how to know what gear to bring, what weapons and such?"

Yes, you act on whatever Intel you have . . ."

" **If** you have it!" added Pete.

" . . . Sure." continued Piers, "And if it's correct. Don't ever assume that! Like today, we know the terrain, it's rough, steep wooded slopes, undergrowth. So we know to bring climbing and abseiling gear in case we have to conduct an area search."

"Abseiling Sir? Won't we be fast-roping? Abseiling's fun, but it's a bit . . . er . . . out of date? The rookie blushed, he knew he'd probably just made a fool of himself, or worse, his new Captain.

Piers grinned. "Sure, FRIES is quicker, but it's also less safe. Today's mission is not a tactical one, so the emphasis will be on safety, not speed, search not rapid insertion, OK? Now, you brought the big camera?"

"Yes, Sir, it's here." Tom patted his side pouch.

"We need a camera, for recording any evidence. That will be your main role today. And as for the blob itself, it may be something or it may be nothing. That's what our standard clean-up and equipment protocols are for. To give us the best options whatever the problem. But keep your mind open and alert. That's the key." Piers punched Tom on the shoulder. "Good questions though rookie."

Bravo team arrived by chopper about two hours after the call, together with the clean-up detachment in another copter. They'd put down in an old timber loading bay further down the forest track from the discovery. The ranger was waiting for them. A handsome young man got out of the first machine and strode up to meet him, offering his hand.

"Acting Captain Piers Nivans, BSAA, what have we got here sir?"

The Ranger shook the firm hand, j _eez, they make Captains young these days_ he thought to himself. "This way Captain. About half a mile away, just off the track in the undergrowth . . ."

Piers had only ever seen something like it once before; in Marhawa. A grey gelatinous mess in the shape of a human being. It was slightly shiny, and here and there the surface was broken by as yet unidentified object within it.

"Tom, photos please, all angles, and get some close ups." Piers beckoned to the Private who was armed with the camera. The 'body' lay flat, arms and legs akimbo. It was impossible to tell if it was face down or face up, there were no obvious discerning features.

"What about the people that found it?" asked Piers.

"Err, I told them it was a very rare woodland fungus, one that spreads out in all directions. Very poisonous and acidic. I think they bought it."

"Good man. No need to get anyone over-alarmed. Anything else?"

"No, I've just kept guard, I haven't had time to look around."

"OK teams, listen up. Clean-up, standard protocols, full suits. You guys know the drill. Let me know as soon as you have a live-inert result. Bravo, we're going to conduct an expanding search outwards from the body. Make sure you look under the undergrowth, not just on top of it. And maintain your spacing. If you find something call out, but don't touch it. Everyone else then stand still till I say otherwise. I'll respond or direct someone else to. Questions? Right, let's go."

"Er . . . What are we looking for Sir?"

Piers looked at Tom and tapped his head. Open mind soldier. We're looking for anything that doesn't belong here. A sweet wrapper, an empty cigarette carton . . ."

"A used condom?" said Andy, the other men sniggered.

"Exactly Sergeant, although we might need a magnifying glass to find it if it's one of yours."

And indeed, they did find all of those things close to the track, but as they fanned out, the incidence of false alarms reduced.

"Captain!" It was Tom again. "It's a biker's helmet Sir, red and white."

The hair on the back of Piers' neck bristled, perhaps his earlier gut feeling had been justified.

"Mark the location and photograph it Tom, I'm on my way."

Piers put his backpack down. He pulled out some disposable gloves from one compartment and took out a large sterile 'evidence' bag from another. He picked the helmet up. The visor was missing, only the broken stubs of the spindles remained. He turned it slowly in his hands as he placed it in the bag. He froze. In the back of the helmet, centred on the white stripe that run front to rear was a hole. A bullet hole. _5.56mm_ , thought Piers, the entry hole was jagged, with silvery deposits around the edges. _Hmm, Low velocity, soft casing_. He placed it in the bag which Tom then sealed up.

"Well done Tom!" he grinned at the rookie.

Piers resumed his place.

"Listen up guys, we've found a crash helmet, minus its black visor. That can't be far away; probably on a line with the body and the helmet. That means you again Tom, or maybe you Andy. Eyes peeled, let's go. . ."

" . . . Got it El . . . er, Captain." shouted Andy.

"Go photograph it Tom, then help him bag it up. Good work Andy."

By now the team were struggling to maintain their spacing. The terrain above and below the track was rapidly getting steeper. Piers judged they had now searched sufficiently far out from the body. _Biker, bikers helmet . . .but where's the bike?_ His thoughts were interrupted by a call from the clean-up team leader on the TAC net.

"Captain, initial site test showed inert, on-board helicopter test of sample confirmed inert. Composition undetermined, but there doesn't seem to be as much liquid as I would expect. Whatever the process was, it may have been exothermic, some of the water may have boiled off. Do you copy?"

"Affirmative, well done. Continue with protocols, repeat, continue protocols. We still don't know enough about this thing yet. Get it ready for external carriage back to base."

"Roger that, out."

"Bravo, fall back to the track for a SITREP."

They joined the Ranger back on the path.

"I believe these finds are significant, very significant; good teamwork this morning. Next we need to find the bike. I'm going to try and talk to base, take a smoke break. Don't get in the way of the clean-up squad; let them do their job. Stay together, no sightseeing Andy.

Piers walked away down the track for some privacy.

"Bravo Pilot this is Bravo One, can you secure-patch me through to base please, I have a Flash priority message."

"Roger Bravo One, I may have to get airborne to get a signal though, these tress are blocking things down here."

"Then do that, I'll standby."

. . . Piers heard the helicopter start-up and rise in the distance, hovering well above the tree line.

"Bravo One, you're good to go now, on TAC channel 10."

"Command, this is Bravo One, I have a Flash priority message for Security One, patch me through please . . ."

"Piers, is that you, are you alright, where are you? . . . Um, over?" Chris had never been that good at following R/T procedures, even in his days in the USAF. It had been a point of contention with numerous COs.

"Security One this is Bravo One, your last transmission garbled. Stand by for SITREP. Bravo has located inert gelatinous remains of mutated body. Composition undetermined, but suggestive of exothermic process. Check Marhawa records for possible correlation t-virus. Do you copy? Over."

". . . correlation t-virus, yes, I've got that Piers."

Piers rolled his eyes; but at least Chris seemed to be in better spirits than the day before. Perhaps some meds had kicked in? He continued.

". . . I believe this is Suspect No.2. The biker. We have recovered subject's helmet. Subject may have been shot in the head by 5.56mm low-velocity round. Clean-up team recovering remains for transport back to base. Bravo will now continue search in area for bike. Location as given in initial incident report. Do you copy? Over."

"Yes, I got all that Piers, take care and don't mess up that hair. Oh, and don't pout like that, I know you, bye."

Piers cracked. "Security One, this is Bravo One. Roger your copy. Be aware that this conversation may be recorded and used for training purposes. Bravo One Out."

He grinned, either Chris was missing the banter, or he'd got one over Jill Valentine again!

"Thank you Bravo Pilot, Bravo One back on TAC net. You can re-land now. Bravo One Out"

He walked back to rejoin Bravo and the others, speaking to the Ranger when he arrived

"What's up there?"Piers looked up at the steeply sloping rock-face forty yards beyond the track. Somehow pine trees had still managed to find precarious footholds in the cracks and crevices amongst the rocks. It wasn't the easiest terrain.

"The local highway, about 300ft further up."

"Can you see this track from the road? " Piers asked.

"Not easily. The trees get in the way. There's a path about half a mile away in the other direction that goes up. It's hard going mind. "I can give you voice directions from below once you're up there."

Piers grinned, "Don't worry, we'll just climb from here, searching as we go. Then take our time coming down. Pete, Andy, on me, we're gonna' climb up to the road above, then abseil down, looking for a red trail bike." The three soldiers picked up their gear. Andy looked up at the steep climb ahead.

"Thank you, er, Captain, just what the doctor ordered."

Piers laughed. "Andy, you know I would never ask you to do anything I wasn't willing to do myself."

Andy gave him a weary look. "Yes sir, but with respect you're half my age."

Piers rolled his eyes. "Ha!, your math always was suspect!" He slapped Andy on the back. "Come on old timer, I'll give you a leg-up."

"So this is the famous Alpha Team banter then?" said Pete, chuckling.

Andy gave him a despairing look. "El Tee, you haven't heard the half of it!"

The three of them checked their own equipment then Piers and Pete buddy-checked each other. Tom ran over to check for Andy "Rock climbing used to be my thing." he said grinning.

As he checked Andy's harness over, he nodded towards Piers. "Is he always this awesome Sarge?" he whispered.

Andy smiled, for a moment he was back in Edonia when another young rookie asked Piers the same question about another Captain.

"Yes son, always."

. . . They found a lone rubber scuff mark on the crash barrier above the site. It looked fresh. There were no marks on the road to suggest a skid or crash. Piers took some shots. They anchored their ropes to the crash barrier and commenced their rappel descent slowly; trying to avoid hitting the trees as they went.

"There Captain, something red between you and me, about 20 yards below."

They hadn't noticed it on the climb up, they were below the thick upper foliage. But abseiling down had given them occasional glimpses out over the canopy as they jumped off.

"Well spotted old timer! Try and get as close as you can on your next push-off. Pete, sidle over towards me."

From the ground they could barely see it, wedged into the top branches of a tall pine. _That looks familiar_ thought Piers as he climbed part way up the tree to get a better look. He zoomed in with his own camera and photographed it, a red Husqvarna 250. It was certainly difficult to get at. _Hmm, we'll have to pull it out with one of the choppers later._

"OK boys, spread out again and work your way down to the bottom, keep your eyes peeled. There may be other things to find." But they saw nothing else by the time they reached the base of the cliff.

Back down on the track the clean-up team leader was anxious to speak to Piers.

"Captain, we've got problems; the way the body was lying. We've had to remove a layer of soil below it, and then temporarily stabilise that. We can get a large canvas sheet underneath and winch it up with the chopper, but then we need to put down and stabilise things properly before we return to base. Preferably somewhere under cover in case it rains. We'll inject the soil with resin to strengthen it, but it needs to cure in the dry. I don't want it inside the chopper for the flight back; even if it does read inert. We still don't know enough about it; we'll have to carry it externally." Piers nodded in agreement then looked around. It was getting misty.

"Weather's closing in." said the Ranger, "There's an old lumber camp not far from here, you could put down there and work in one of the old sheds."

"Right, clean-up team get the body back to your helicopter and ready for flight. Bravo clear up here then wait at the loading bay. In the meantime I'll recover the bike, then return to pick you up."

Piers grinned at the Ranger. "Good idea, you know the BSAA could do with some guys like you." said Piers. "Go with them and show the Lieutenant the location on his map. You can be our navigator. We can drop you back to your jeep later."

"Bravo Chopper this is Bravo One. I'm going to suit up here. Get airborne and come and winch me up. Get the grapple hook ready too. There's a trail bike I want to pick up from the top of a tree. Once your airborne, call base, for attention Security One. Say we've found the red bike, he'll understand." Once we've got it, land back in the clearing. We'll secure the bike and then embark Bravo."

It took Piers three attempts to snag the bike with the hook. In his suit and harness it was difficult to move freely, and he had nothing to brace himself against. He remained suspended below the chopper as it returned to a low hover over loading area. Piers dropped to the ground and released the bike from the grapple hook. The front tyre was buckled, probably from where it had hit the crash barrier. Otherwise, aside from a few scratches, it seemed relatively undamaged. He surmised it must have been caught on the tree as it tumbled over the crash barrier. The rider had probably parted company with his helmet and the bike after it hit the barrier; falling to the foot of the cliff below. It was pure chance the body had been found. Well done that dog!

Bravo and the clean-up team were waiting. Bravo secured the bike for safe transport whilst Piers de-suited. Piers sat the Ranger up front, so he had a good view. Piers hunched down beside him.

"Right Sir, show us the way."

************************

The two helicopters flew slowly back to the lumber camp, guided by the Ranger. They carried out a slow circuit of the area.

"That's funny, that burnt out car . . . Look! It wasn't here last week." The Ranger pointed whilst Piers scoped it.

"I thought you said the place was abandoned?"

"Occasionally some hikers come by, but the trail doesn't go anywhere, so it's not that popular, especially this time of year.

Piers felt the short hairs on the back of his neck prickle yet again. This didn't feel right. It was too much of a co-incidence.

"Bravo One to all Bravo units. Take a defensive posture on landing. Clean-up team await my landing instructions. Out. Pilot, radio base, tell them what's happening, then put down as far away from the car as you can. The chopper landed on the edge of the abandoned lumber camp.

"Pete, secure the area, quickly. Tom, stay here with me. The Ranger looked troubled. He liked the action, but he wasn't expecting this.

"Don't worry, I'm just being cautious." said Piers reassuringly, as he and Tom stepped outside. They both took up kneeling positions with their rifles and scoped the dilapidated buildings ahead of the team's progress.

It took a quarter of an hour before Pete radioed in with an all-clear. The Captain and the rookie approached the car slowly, cautiously. Apart from their breathing the only sound was the other chopper slowly circling in the distance. Piers crouched down, looking underneath from all angles, there was no sign of anything unusual. The windows of the car had been blown out, and its roof lay open and twisted. This was the result of a explosive device of some kind going off inside the car. It looked like there had been a subsequent internal fire, mainly confined to the rear of the vehicle. Then unmistakable smell of burnt plastic and the sweet smell of decomposing flesh wafted from inside. Piers peered cautiously into the front of the car. Both the front seats had been blown forwards by the blast. In the driver's seat a headless torso rested chest down against the steering wheel. The right arm was also missing. The top of the torso appeared burnt, but the rest seemed relatively undamaged. As he looked inside the smell became overpowering. Something between burnt fat and excrement. He resisted the urge to gag. He could make out a white envelope laying on the front passenger seat. The rear passenger area was completely burnt out. There was a lot of water inside the car, it was open to the elements.

"It looks safe, get some photos Tom, especially that envelope and the body. but don't touch a thing." Walking back to the chopper Piers spoke into his radio.

"Bravo Two this is One. Tell the clean-up chopper to land and help them get that 'thing' stabilised. Oh, and tell them I want a DNA sample taken from this John Doe we've just found . . . Bravo Pilot, did you contact Command?"

"Yes Captain."

"Good, tell them exactly where we are, and that we've found a second body in a bombed out car. I repeat, we have two bodies. Request instructions from Security One.

"Roger Captain . . ."

"When did it last rain here?" Piers asked the Ranger when he got back on board.

He scratched his chin. "That would be around mid-day Monday Captain. Yesterday was dry."

"And before Monday?"

I don't know. I'll have to check the nearest watchtower. Give me a minute."

The Ranger made a call on his cell. ". . . Thanks Ricky."

"Ricky says Saturday afternoon. He's quite sure, he enjoys taking notes on the weather."

Piers rolled his eyes. "Oh well, whatever floats your boat."

"Um, what do I say, to my boss?" The Ranger asked cautiously, "He doesn't believe in rare flesh eating fungi any more than I do, and what's with the car?"

Piers looked at him blandly. "It was a false alarm, a classified BSAA training exercise. Your assistance will be duly noted and appreciated. If he has any problems get him to call this number." Piers handed him a card from his vest pocket.

"Colonel Jill Valentine, Operations Director, BSAA North America. Phew, the big cheese eh?"

Piers laughed. "Umm, I wouldn't use that term if I were you, not if you still want kids." The Ranger blushed.

"Oh, I see. I think I've got her sister back home!"

"Hah! Get him to request an official apology, she enjoys writing those." The two men looked at one another. They had a perfect understanding of the situation. Piers shook his hand.

"Thanks for your help today, outstanding. I'm afraid this is a classified BSAA matter now. We'll take it from here. There may be some more helicopter operations locally, but we should be clear by the end of afternoon. Someone from the BSAA will be in touch with you, official secrets, that sort of thing . . . Pilot, would you take our friend and guide back to the track please? . . . He can winch you right down to your jeep if you want?"

"Ha, no thanks Captain, enough excitement for one day, the loading bay will be fine. Goodbye, and, er good luck with the . . . whatever it is."

Not long after the chopper got airborne the pilot called Piers up.

"Bravo One, I have Security One on a patch from Command, Tac Channel 10 again Sir."

"Bravo One this is Chris . . . um, can you hear me . . . over?

"Ten Ten Security One, pass your message over."

"The Feds are on their way by car, they'll deal with the second body. Stay there until they arrive, in about two hours, then return to base. Oh, before they do arrive get a piece of the body and bring it back with you, for DNA testing. Did you get all that? Over."

"Roger Security One, all copied. We already have a DNA sample. Do you have any further instructions? Over."

"Yes Piers, get the bikers remains away before the Feds arrive, no need for them to see more than they need to . . . er, over?"

"Roger that Security One. Wilco. Bravo One out."

************************

The next day those SOUs not on standby were performing drill. The ceremonial funeral service to be precise. There were two main parties; the pallbearers and the firing party. They each practised their drills separately, during the day, then came together for a full rehearsal. Chris watched from his office, a lump in his throat. Every so often there would be a triple volley of shots. It always gave him goose bumps. He'd seen Mary after he'd checked in the bikers remains the night before. They had been quickly despatched to the mortuary, awaiting forensic tests and checks. As yet, they still didn't know what or who they'd brought back.

Mary was a little unsure at first, she was worried that it would overwhelm the children. Chris won her over in the end. He promised there would be no interviews with close friends and family, photos only.

"I'll be with you all the way." he said as he hugged her in his big arms.

"Chris, would you deliver the eulogy please ? . . I couldn't, it would tear me apart."

Chris had smiled, that wonderful encouraging smile he had. He kissed her head. "Off course Mary, it would be my privilege."

"The undertakers say they can do Saturday, afternoon. Is that OK?" she almost seemed apologetic.

"That's fine Mary. I'll let the Director know at once." He has some VIPs to organise."

"Oh Lord Redwing! This is getting way outta' my league."

He hugged her tight again. "Hush, you'll be OK, and so will the kids. I won't leave your side, I promise."

The pallbearers comprised Bravo team, with 2nd Lt Pete Carter as the officer-in-charge. Though by right Piers' role as Captain, he had preferred to let Pete take the lead. Rob had been his captain after all. Piers chose to join the firing party instead. It seemed more fitting somehow.

************************

The call from the forensics lab came around midday Thursday; from the senior Doctor in charge of conducting the forensic autopsies, Major Simms.

"Ah, Redfield, we've worked steadily through the night, thought you might like to hear what we've found so far."

"Certainly Major, I'll bring Colonel Valentine as well. You can explain things to both of us. Say ten minutes?"

"No rush old man, we're having a coffee break here, half an hour will give us time to finish our donuts, what? Cheerio."

Chris licked his lips. _Hmm donuts, I'm working in the wrong section_ , he thought. He was still maintaining his buoyant mood since Tuesday, two days earlier. Piers had been correct, he may have lost Alpha temporarily but he was relishing the new daily challenges he was encountering. He was very intent on remaining positive right now. For Mary and the kids, for the SOU's and the BSAA . . . and for Piers. He had to protect them all through the days ahead.

He knew the headless torso was Cortez. No doubt in his mind, he'd known it the night before, when, at DSO's suggestion, the FBI had brought the body back for an autopsy. And the biker was the same man young Robbie had identified earlier. They had both been terminated with rapid and brutal force. Presumably to stop the trail going any further. Whoever the BSAA were up against were professional, ruthless, and involved in Bioterrorism. That much was certainly clear. It matched the President's and Dee's assessment of this 'New Alliance'.

He shared some of his thoughts with Jill as they walked over to the medical centre, omitting any reference to the Alliance. He still wasn't sure how much she knew about that.

"Ah Colonel, Captain, welcome. We've had a busy night!"

The rotund Major still had donut icing sugar on his moustache, but his brain was as incisive as his scalpels.

The headless corpse is Sergeant Francisco Cortez, late of the BSAA. The DNA sample your man Nivan's brought back yesterday correlated perfectly with our own recorded samples. No time for an autopsy as yet. The FBI still haven't released the body to us formally so at the moment we're just giving it a home. However, We have been very busy with the 'blob'! He indicated a sizeable glass container, full of a grey, semi-opaque liquid. Alongside it was a large medical tray holding numerous metallic looking objects.

"So, the one you call the biker. Death by a t-virus variant, a new one, destroying organic matter. Not as virulent as that seen in Marhawa, with a shorter life-span. Probably controlled with a timed accelerant."

"A what?" said Chris.

"Something that kick-starts it to work after a set delay. Probably a minute at most, so the virus can spread throughout the entire blood stream first. In this case we're probably looking at a binary bullet as the means of delivery. 5.56mm, soft metal case, silver and tin perhaps. Need more spectroscopy to be done there. Oh, but the helmet, we struck gold with that, there were some brain tissue and hair fragments resulting from the entry of the bullet. Untouched by the virus, indicating the helmet must have come off before the virus kicked in. Just right for DNA purposes . . . So, we have a pale skinned man, pale grey eyes and light brown hair, cut short. We found nothing longer than 1"inside the helmet.

"Ethnicity?" asked Jill.

Ah, autosomal testing, touchy area in the world of genetics right now Colonel. Genetically he's very pure, 97.5% southern European. Dinaric, probably, but please don't quote me."

"Which is where?" asked Chris.

"The Balkan and Slavic races."

"Like Edonia?"

"Oh yes, an area full of Dinaric traits I shouldn't wonder. Other things tell us more about him physically, and will perhaps eventually give us his country of origin." He pointed to the large white tray and gestured for Jill and Chris to put on rubber gloves.

"What's that, curled up like a snake's skeleton?" asked Jill."

"Ah, the zip from his motorcycle leathers. Assuming crotch to neck it gives him a height of 6' 1", give or take an inch."

"And these?" Chris picked up two flat, cup-like objects.

"They tell us his shoe size, 12, they're the steel toe caps from his boots. Anything leather has gone with the body of course, organic you see?" His dental fillings are very interesting. A very cheap amalgam, too much mercury to be legal in most countries, the US, the EU for example, so probably eastern Europe, Russia. There are two gold crowns as well, wonderful work, very high quality metal. With a bit more time we can probably pin the source of the gold down.

"This is nice." Jill had picked up a thick gold ring. Carved in a red gemstone setting was a wolf's head, jaw agape; with the letter V to the left and P to the right.

"Initials?"

"Possibly. There are no assay marks, but it's a quality piece, made to a private order I shouldn't wonder."

"So he was wealthy then, our John Doe?"

"Or had wealthy friends." remarked Chris, looking closely at the piece.

"Or he was a thief!"

"Can I hang onto this?" Chris asked the Major, flicking the ring up into the air.

The Major caught it in mid-air with surprising agility. "You can have it tomorrow Captain. I need to run some more tests first. We've got photos of everything, naturally. Let me continue . . ."

************************

It was a cruel irony that the same day Danny Svenson was brought back into the land of the living was the day the last mortal remains of Robin Ellis were interred . . .

The Doctors began the preparations to bring Danny out of the induced coma on the Saturday morning. One of the first things to go was the mechanical ventilator. After witnessing an hour of unassisted breathing, the ICU team began to gradually reduce the anaesthetic flowing into Danny's veins. Other connections, the catheter and vital signs, would remain of course. Danny still had multiple fractures to be operated on and repaired. He would remain on pain relief in the ICU for some time.

Robin Ellis' funeral was conducted on a dull autumnal afternoon. A mean sun provided light but little warmth through ragged grey clouds. The sombre weather matched the solemnity of the occasion. After the chaplain had finished his opening sermon, he stood to one side of the lectern facing the mourners. He nodded to Chris, it was his cue to deliver the eulogy. The Captain walked up slowly to the temporary dais on which the lectern stood. He pushed away the microphone with a slight look of disdain; then cast his sombre gaze out over the mourners. He saw the friends and relatives comforting one another; the visiting dignitaries watching for a photo opportunity. The fresh faces of the young recruits, pinched by the cold. The hard lines etched on the faces of the seasoned veterans. When his gaze reached Mary and Becky he smiled encouragingly. He gave young Robbie a wink, then cleared his throat.

"Robin Ellis was a soldier, a father, a husband and a friend. But before all that he was an airman. He and I both joined the USAF Academy Colorado Springs at the same time, 1990. One of the first things we had to do there was learn a poem. We had to memorise it by heart. We would practice together in the evenings; back in our dormitory. Throwing each other a random line until we were both word perfect. That's how we became friends.

"It was written by another airman; a long time ago. Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee Jr. An American pilot serving with 412 Squadron RCAF in England. He was killed on December 11th, 1942, in his Spitfire. He was just 19."

"I'd like to recite that poem to you all now. It expresses more eloquently than I could ever hope to; the feelings I believe we all share here today. It's called High Flight."

Chris paused and briefly closed his eyes. Then his deep baritone voice spoke out loudly and clearly as he gazed upwards.

"Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,

I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.

Where never lark, or even eagle flew —

And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God."

By the time he finished, tears were running down Chris' cheeks. He didn't attempt to hide them or brush them away; instead he let them remain, a testament to his emotions. Piers too, had reacted. Not for the first time that week he'd felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle as Chris began his recitation. He never ceased to be amazed by the way Chris could rise from personal adversity and shine. How he could suddenly seize the moment when all appeared lost. His Captain and his partner. Along with everyone else, Piers' eyes were wet with tears as the poem concluded.

Chris returned from the dais to Mary's side. He gave young Robbie another wink and a smile of encouragement as he put a large protective arm around Becky's bony little shoulders.

"Good job kids, your Dad would be so proud of you." he said encouragingly.

Once the chaplain finished the benediction, the firing party, comprising six snipers from various SOUs was called to attention. Piers amongst them, representing Bravo.

"With blank ammunition, LOAD."

The riflemen assumed the port arms position, chambered a round and returned to port arms.

"Ready, aim; FIRE."

The six shots rang out as one.

"Ready, aim; FIRE."

"Ready, aim; FIRE."

"CEASE FIRING. Present arms."

Then the bugler, a young Private from communications, sounded 'Taps'. As the last note died away, the firing party were called to order arms.

The pallbearers ceremoniously folded the flag that had lain draped over the coffin. Andy Walker completed the final tuck and passed it to Lt Carter. The young officer turned smartly and stepped towards Mary.

"Ma'am, this flag is presented on behalf of a grateful nation as an expression of appreciation for the honourable and faithful service rendered by your loved one."

"Bless you Pete." she said quietly. She took the flag and kissed it gently before clutching it to her breast.

Then from the south a sound like distant thunder could be heard. Piers and Robbie had detected it first, and turned their gaze in that direction. Soon everyone could hear it; turning in one and twos, trying to find the source of the noise. Then low against the horizon, a faint smoke trail could be seen, rapidly approaching. With a roar, four F-16D Fighting Falcons from the 121st Squadron, Air National Guard, came into view. The 'Capital Guardians' based at Joint Base Andrews, DC. They were flying in a tight 'finger four' formation. As they reached the cemetery, the 'middle finger' aircraft suddenly pulled up and away to the west, towards the sun; leaving a gap in the formation. The 'missing man'. The lone grey jet continued its upward trajectory; towards the sun. Then it was lost to sight as it entered the clouds.

"Godspeed Batman" said Chris softly.

Chris joined Mary as she and the children walked over to the bare coffin. She placed a single red rose on it. Robbie and Becky did the same. "Goodbye handsome." was all she said.

Chris bowed his head. Thick fingers found the clasp on the pale blue ribbon from which a golden star hung. His Medal of Honour. He placed the medal on the casket. "For those who didn't make it back."

The journalist's cameras had been clicking furiously, these were the money shots. If Chris and Mary heard them, they didn't show it. They walked back from the graveside slowly and with dignity. It was a fitting end to the service.

************************

During the afternoon and early evening of Saturday Finn had held onto Danny's hand, constantly. Occasionally his partner would move his head, or mumble something, but he was a long time coming out of the heavy sleep induced by the propofol. Around 9 pm his eyelids eventually fluttered open.

"Mnah! Wha . . . gnh!" His ice-blue eyes slowly focussed, blinking in the unaccustomed light of the ICU.

"Dan! Oh my Dan, you're back. It's been so long . . ." Finn squeezed Danny's hand gently.

Danny looked down at his hand and tried to pull it away, but he was too weak. Then he stared without expression at Finn.

"Who . . . who are you?"

************************

In the darkened TV room the tall man reclined back in an expensive Italian-designer leather armchair. But although his body was relaxed, his eyes never stopped moving, scrutinising every image on the large screen. An aide sat alongside him on the matching sofa.

"There!" said the man hitting the pause button. He zoomed in on the image. "That's Redfield."

"Hmm, doesn't look like a man on the edge to me." said the aide.

"Look at his eyes you fool, they're red, look at the bags under them. We've struck home." He hit play again. The images showed the firing party, the three sets of volleys. He hit pause again. "There, Redfield's whelp, see how smug he looks?

"Perhaps he should have been our first target?"

"Oh no, I want this to be drawn out. I want that ape to suffer slowly and painfully." The recording continued, he stopped on an image of the Director alongside Jill. "Ah, the old fox himself, and Colonel Valentine too." He chuckled, "Enjoy your remaining days Director. There won't be many more, I promise you. Interesting . . . I see no sign of that gormless soldier and his boyfriend. Another result perhaps?"

"We could always insert another operative into the base." said the aide, "Burrows was too easily lured away by their Director."

"No, it would take too long now, that was the problem with Burrows, he was slow."

"Who do you think killed him?"

The tall man laughed. "Well, assuming it wasn't us, the old fox of course. He's calling us out.

"But our sources within the BSAA base have dried up. Perhaps we terminated Captain Petrovic too soon?"

The tall man pressed a button on his chair and the lights in the room slowly came on. As he stood up he smoothed back his hair and put on a pair of square-framed dark glasses. Suddenly he bent down and grabbed the aide's throat. He tilted his head from side to side as he looked into the frightened, bulging eyes in front of him.

"Don't ever question me again, or you'll end up like Vasilije yourself." Then he smoothed down the man's lapel and smiled. Now get me the latest status reports on all operational units. It's time this show got on the road."

************************

That same evening Major Simms finally began the autopsy on the body of Francisco Cortez. And then he stopped. Chris and Jill got the call around 21:30. They were both at the forensics lab within half an hour.

"Ah, Colonel, Captain, sorry to trouble you, but I needed your thoughts. I was just about to perform my internal examination on Cortez here." He indicated the body lying on the table. Apart from a blackened area around the shoulders, the upper half of the body appeared creamy white, the skin almost translucent. The lower trunk and legs in comparison were dark, a bluish-brown, this was where the blood had drained to after death.

I'd just shaved his chest and was preparing to make the Y-incision to open him up for inspection. I thought I noticed something odd here." He tapped the area between Cortez's pectorals, then adjusted a lamp over the spot.

"Here, you can see it better under this UV light. See, these marks?"

Chris and Jill bent forward to look. Regularly spaced either side of the sternum and going into the thick muscle of the pectorals were six small holes.

Jill immediately let out a frightened gasp and turned away, burying her head in Chris' chest. Chris put a protective arm around her as his brows furrowed in consternation.

"P30? . . . Wesker?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch 6: A long chapter, but I needed to move things along! Hope you enjoyed the read, your comments, as ever, are most welcome.


	7. Dead Men Do Tell Tales (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn gets a helping hand, but not before Piers! Tensions arise within the BSAA, while Cortez and the Biker yield more secrets. As Bravo goes into action, a young man wishes he'd stayed at home. Piers feels the burden of Command, later he and Chris say farewell to the Deuce of Hearts.

 

Previously:

"Dan! Oh my Dan, you're back. It's been so long . . ." Finn squeezed Danny's hand gently.

Danny looked down at his hand and tried to pull it away, but he was too weak. Then he stared without expression at Finn.

"Who . . . who are you?"

************************

When Danny awoke from the induce coma he was immediately surrounded by the ICU medical team. They needed to assess his waking condition and carry out various neurological tests. For the moment Finn was just in the way. He was wheeled back into his original room by one the nurses.

"You'll be better of here for a while Corporal. Your friend is going to be poked and prodded by that lot for quite some time." she laughed in an effort to cheer him up. "Come on, you should get some rest."

"But he didn't recognise me!" said Finn, almost sobbing. "He took his hand away from me."

"Hush now, I'm sure it's nothing. Remember, he's been asleep for six days; it'll be like waking from the dead. He'll be disorientated and feeling a lot of pain. He probably won't even remember the explosion. So it will all feel strange, give him some time."

Finn wanted to curl up in bed, but with his feet in plaster and his chest still strapped; he had no option but to lie on his back. He clutched a pillow for comfort and drew the blanket over his head. He tried to withdraw from the world; just like he used to as a frightened and lonely young recruit . . .

*************************

Piers lay face up on a bed too; his hands behind his head. His skin was still pink from the hot shower; and apart from the red towel around his waist, he was naked. Chris came in from his shower, drying himself off. Then he lay down next to Piers.

"Hello stranger." he grinned.

"I know, there don't seem to be enough hours in the day lately. What with running Bravo and spending nights on base, I'm sorry!"

"Don't apologise, I've been just the same, every time I think I can sneak off to the gym; Jill or Dee ring up."

"What did Major Simms want tonight?"

"Cortez. Looks like someone had him on P30. Simms was just about to start the autopsy when he noticed some strange needle marks on Cortez's chest.

"What! Like Wesker used on Colonel Valentine?"

"Yes, exactly like that. Jill freaked out, it's like her worst nightmare suddenly came back to haunt her . . . one of mine too. Damnit, when I saw those marks I freaked out myself. What was even more weird was Dee's reaction later. Like we were just confirming what he already knew."

"Just another piece of his jigsaw?"

"Yeh, precisely. He seems more interested in your biker than Cortez."

"Because we don't know how he fits in with all this?"

"Dee think's he was Cortez's control and he's probably right. No, it's because he represents the next level up in this New Alliance. One step nearer the head of the organisation. It can't be Wesker babe, can it?"

"One step at a time Chris. He's dead, you killed him. You'll know more tomorrow, when Major Simms has more results. But until then can't we just enjoy the present? We've got some time together; let's not spoil the opportunity, OK?"

"Yeh, you're right, enough of all that for now." Chris forced himself to relax; idly stroking Piers belly. "Oh, I've missed you Ace." The big fingers trailed through curled golden hair.

"Heh, this is new!" The hairs spread outwards from Piers' treasure trail, covering his toned abs. Usually finely drawn; the trail itself was now thicker and more clearly defined."

Piers arched his back slightly at the touch; he blushed. "S, sorry, I haven't had much time for personal grooming either."

"Hmm, don't worry Ace, I like it; my boy's maturing. It befits your status as an SOU Captain." Chris slid a hand under Piers' butt. "Yum, here too, grrr."

"Yeh, Captain in name only . . . ouff! I sometimes think I'll always be, ahh! . . . a Lieutenant."

"Well, I've recommended you enough times, but you know how it is in the BSAA, dead mans' shoes . . ." Chris' voice trailed off, _shit, that didn't come out right!_ Immediately he regretted his choice of words.

Piers placed a hand on Chris' shoulder and smiled. "Hey, I'm not complaining really, I'd rather be your Lieutenant any day, even a hairy one!"

Chris chuckled, how like Piers to defuse one of his awkward comments. "Er, so now there's two bears in Alpha . . . oh, and there's Andy of course."

"And don't forget Danny, he's really furry for a blond. Captain Bearfield and his cubs, has a certain ring to it, what do you think babe?"

"Humph! I think I prefer plain simple Alpha . . . I'll get it back you know. I've been following your advice, getting to grips with security, taking each day as it comes. But it's always at the back of my mind."

"I've never doubted it babe. I know Bravo is only temporary for me too. I'll give it my all, but the day Alpha reforms I'll be right there alongside you."

"I can't wait Ace . . ." Chris leaned in for a long passionate kiss, whilst his right hand slid under the red towel; softly caressing Piers stiffening member. "Seriously, I can't wait . . . I want you now, I _need_ you now!"

Piers moaned and writhed in pleasure. "Ah . . . acting Captain Piers 'Hirsute' Nivans at your service Captain Redfield . . . Uff! You have the con . . . Ohh!"

"Roger that, I have the con . . . do you like mango by the way?"

"Yeahssss! Ohhh fu...." Piers whimpered as Chris applied a copious amount of lube with a large forefinger and began working it in.

"Good, cos' this one's mango flavoured, steak and dessert in one package Ace." Chris deftly put the condom on. He grinned, pleased that he could do it almost single handedly nowadays. "Practice makes perfect babe . . . ready?"

************************

It was late evening when Ben came to visit Finn; he missed his buddy from Alpha.

Finn was still hiding from the world, keeping it at bay with the blanket, his eyes shut tight. _If he couldn't see it, then perhaps it wouldn't see him_ . . . A strong hand squeezed his shoulder; making him start.

"Come on Finn, I know you're in there. Stop hiding, it's me, Ben."

Finn peaked out from his hideaway. "Ben? Oh thank goodness it's you. I'm so worried, he didn't recognise me you know. He p, pulled away, like I was a stranger . . . Oh Ben, what . . . what if he's forgotten me, forgotten us?" Finn wailed, the tears welling up in his sad green eyes.

Ben bent down and stroked Finn's hair. "Nurse Branna rang me when she came off shift, said you might use the company. And she said you weren't to worry." Finn pulled the blanket slowly down from his face. "You'll be fine Finn. Remember that? Fine Finn." Ben chuckled at the recollection and Finn managed half a silly grin.

"That's it, happy face soldier . . . Jeez, we all miss you so much buddy." He ruffled Finn's hair. "There's been a lot happening on base lately, you need to catch up."

"Oh?" said Finn intrigued now.

"Well, let me see, where to start? I'm in Echo with Carl now, and El Tee is running Bravo, he's acting Captain. And Andy's with him too. Um, and Colonel Valentine's taken over Operations here on base. Things have been turned upside down since . . . since, well you know."

Ben always had had the knack of drawing Finn out of his worries. Finn put his hand out shyly and Ben took it, holding it tenderly in his own.

"I overheard the Doctors talking about more attacks, and Captain. How is he? El Tee's been to see me, but I don't think he tells me everything, doesn't want to worry me I suppose. So what's happened to Alpha then? And what attacks? And . . . oh, just tell me everything Ben. I'll need to tell Dan when I see him . . ."

"Alright, alright, slow down now. And go easy with Danny OK? He's still very sick, you don't wanna' upset him. Promise?"

"Yes Ben, I promise, you know I wouldn't hurt him for the world. And anyway, I've got to get him to remember me first of all."

Ben laughed, "I don't think anyone would forget you for long Finn, you have that effect on people." He squeezed Finn's hand. "C'mon let's open one of those cans you've got stashed away." They shared the beer. "Right, where do I begin . . ?"

************************

Early the next morning Major Simms called Jill and Chris to the medical centre to explain the results of the autopsy on Francisco Cortez. He was just finishing his third breakfast donut.

"Would you care for one?" He gestured towards the plate.

"Oh yes ple . . ." began Chris, but Jill cut him off abruptly.

"No thank you Major, let's get down to business. Now, what do you have for us?"

Simms read from his report.

"I'll skip the unimportant stuff. Cause of death, pretty obvious, lost his head, ha, ha. Wounds ditto. Internal organs good condition, minor scarring on lungs, usual smokers thing, kidneys, liver OK. He was a fit man . . . No, it's his blood that's interesting, and his urine. Both full of masking agent, abnormally high levels, even for a dodgy cyclist."

"What?" said Jill tersely, she found the Doctors humour annoying. Chris couldn't help but grin at Simms.

"Like some athletes use Colonel, to hide drug their taking. In this case it's probably hiding some form of P30. Our equipment here isn't sensitive enough for a full analysis I'm afraid."

"Why not?" Jill demanded.

Simms sighed, then answered slowly, as if to a child. "Because of the masking agent Colonel, that's what it does, masks things. These are very complex bio-chemical substances we're dealing with."

Chris intervened before a full-scale argument broke out.

"How about Dr Kaison Major, could he help you?"

"Of course Captain, my thoughts exactly. I've sent samples from Cortez and Heinz to him in our facility in China, with any luck we should have some results within a week. Do have a donut old-boy."

"Heinz? Who's that?" enquired Jill, giving Chris a 'stare' as he took the donut.

"Our blob in a jar, we've nicknamed him Heinz Soup, ha, ha."

Chris laughed too, Jill's face was a picture.

"Anything else Doc? What about Heinz's contents? The fillings and that." asked Chris.

"Ah, yes, we've had a good look at the gold content. In the crowns and that ring. From Edonia, without a doubt."

Chris flashed Jill a look. "Edonia? Are you sure? This is very important Doc."

"Absolutely, 22ct gold is made more durable by adding other metals to make an alloy. Usually copper, silver and zinc. Every world producer has their own recipe. The ratio of the other metals to the gold in the alloy provide a unique fingerprint. Edonia, no question, and most likely from Majdabor in the east. They have a preference for using high levels of zinc there."

"And the red stone?" asked Jill.

"Ah, beautiful isn't it? Carnelian, a type of Chalcedony, which as you know is a form of silica."

"Er, yes, of course. Could that come from Edonia too?"

"Oh yes, it's present in small commercial quantities. Couldn't say for certain that's the source though. Doesn't have a fingerprint like gold you see."

"Have these results gone to the Director?"

"Of course Colonel, as soon as the report was finished, we strive to be as efficient as the sharp end, in our own small way. Hmm, the rest of the autopsy on Cortez is fairly routine, you can read it at your leisure. Oh, we do now have a copy of his suicide note, courtesy of your friends at the FBI. The hand writing checks out perfectly against original samples held on file. Here . . ." He handed Jill a copy which she read out.

 _I was so angry, may God forgive me. It's better for everyone if I'm not here. signed Francisco Cortez._ she looked at Chris "It might be a clever forgery."

"If he was on P30, he may have been told to write it himself, no need for a forgery." replied Chris thoughtfully.

"Ah, that reminds me." said Simms. The chaps at the FBI also said Cortez's fingerprints were on fragments of the explosive device that killed him. Apparently it didn't go off properly, so there were some useable bits and pieces left."

"Anyone else's?"

"No, just his."

"Well, whatever their origins, they seem designed to end the trail with Cortez himself. That will please the Feds, it fits their theory. But we know about Heinz, although I don't think we were meant to. We know the trail goes beyond both of them; and for now it seems to point to Edonia."

"And Wesker? said Jill, suddenly looking vulnerable.

"No, Jill, he's dead. We have to believe what we saw in Africa. No, someone else has picked up his baton. Let's contact Dee."

"Yes . . . Thank you Major, excellent work. Let us know the minute anything comes in from Dr Kaison."

"Certainly Colonel. Oh Captain, would you like this now?" Simms held out the red and gold ring. "You'll have to sign for it of course."

"Will that be in ink or blood?" Chris grinned as he took the ring.

"Ha! You would have made a good Doctor, Redfield. Nice sense of humour."

************************

Branna shook Finn awake from his nap.

"Come on sleepy head, he's asking for you. Chop chop, I'll help you into the wheelchair."

"Dan, my Dan, he's back . . . he remembers me?"

"Yes, isn't that marvellous, and he says he won't rest until he sees you. Come along soldier, you can have breakfast together. Sure, that'll be a grand way to start the morning now . . ."

". . . I could hear you, you know, all the time. Like a fuzzy drone, a soft buzzing noise in the background." said Danny, a big smile across his face, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down with both the emotion and the effort of speaking.

"Oh . . . just a drone." said Finn, a little dejectedly. "I was trying to tell you everything that was going on."

Danny squeezed Finn's hand gently, he was still very weak. "No Finney, not like that!" he said softly, "It was like the sound of a lazy summer's day, bees buzzing from flower to flower, insects humming in the still air; like that. It was so relaxing; it made me feel so peaceful, so safe. I knew you were near."

Finn's face lit up, and he kissed Danny's hand. "Oh Dan, you and your nature! Now I know you've come back to me!

************************

Jill and Chris talked as they walked slowly back to the operations centre.

"P30 gives incredible strength as well as mind control, but the effects aren't long lasting, hence the chest device. Did Cortez ever show signs of increased strength?"

"No, not that I'm aware off. I'll dig out Rob's combat reports on Cortez, but I don't recall him ever saying anything in particular. When I had the run-in with him at the shooting range he was quite passive physically. It was his attitude that was aggressive, not his strength. But his eyes, they were empty, soulless. Now I know where I'd seen that look before. It was you Jill, when we fought at Kijuju."

"Oh Chris, don't remind me, this has brought it all back again. I try so hard to bury it"

"We all carry scars Jill, comes with the job I suppose. You hide yours under that Colonel persona, just like I do as Captain Redfield. What a pair eh?" He put two large arms around her with affection. "Damn rank, you need a hug."

. . . They called Dee on the secure line. He had already read the autopsy reports.

"Ah, my dears . . . puff . . . you're both up to speed? . . . puff. Excuse me, I'm a little short of breath this morning. Mike will be telling me off for not resting, ha, ha. So, we seem to have a modified T virus and a modified form of P30. It's not their use that interests me as much as their apparent development. The New Alliance isn't re-inventing the past, it's looking to the future. And now there's an Edonia connection. What do you make of it?"

"I'd say we need to get Kaison's detailed results." said Jill, "It may point to who or what is capable of such development. Neo-Umbrella's personnel and facilities never were entirely exposed."

"Hmm, true. And Christopher dear boy, what do you think?"

"I think there's a big signpost that says Edonia. It might be a diversion, but I don't think we were meant to find Heinz, er, the biker that is. What does the European Branch have to say? They must have some Infiltration Agents thereabouts."

"What indeed. Their gaze has been somewhat inward of late. The refugee crisis and internal terrorism threat has kept them rather preoccupied. They've been out of the . . . puff . . . international loop . . . puff . . . lately. I shall make some enquiries. Edonia is in a political crisis once more. The Europeans won't admit how bad it is, and independent intelligence is unreliable and hard to come by."

"Sounds like you need some boots on the ground Dee."

"Ha, ha, Christopher, are you tired of running Security already? Now listen, both of you. The BSAA is under threat of imminent worldwide attack. I have discussed this with both of you separately, but now we must all work together. The BSAA will be going to the highest alert level at mid-day today. Orders will be issued from Headquarters at Northwood in England. Independently, You will both be receiving the President's and my authorisation to discuss certain matters previously restricted to you individually.

"You mean we're going to be a team?" said Jill.

"You're still my Operations Director Gillian, don't worry. Think of Christopher as your right hand, for now. Less rank, more co-operation."

"Christopher, I want you and Piers to be prepared for travel as we discussed with the President. I can give you 72 hours notice, no more. Do you understand?"

"Yes Dee, of course."

Good, I shall appraise the Bioterrorism Assessment Committee of our findings.

"Oh, by the way Gillian my dear, Ambassador Power sent her regards. Are you two pals now?"

"Just keeping my irons in the fire Dee."

"Ha, ha! I may be at death's door Colonel, but I haven't gone quite yet. Concentrate on operations please; and leave the politics to me. That's not a request by the way. Goodbye."

"Director." Jill put the phone down, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"Dee's had it in for you lately." said Chris in a conciliatory tone.

"Yes. We . . . we had a disagreement; shortly after I arrived here."

"Oh?"

"You always told me he was a ruthless bastard."

"Yes."

"Well, you were right."

"?"

"Don't worry, I haven't gone over to the dark side yet."

"Glad to hear it. Can I help?"

"No . . . no thanks Chris . . . um, it was you we argued over actually."

"Oh, do I wanna' hear this?"

"Best not to. Well at least not from me anyway. It doesn't matter now actually; things have changed." Chris raised his eyebrows. "For the better." she smiled and patted his arm, remembering the hug he'd given her earlier. "Well Captain Righthand what's next on the 'to do' list?"

************************

Chris looked for Piers at lunchtime. He bumped into Lieutenant Pete Carter, Bravo's No. 2.

"Hello Captain, looking for the Captain?" They both grinned.

"Yes Pete, have you seen him?"

"He's gone back to the Deuce of Hearts to collect some kit. All the teams are gearing up now we're on high alert. Captain Nivans volunteered us for the first Op, so we're officially on 3 hour standby. He's only just gone, you'll catch him if you're quick . . ."

"Babe?" Chris called out as he walked into the lounge.

"Up here Chris." replied a distant voice, "In the gun room."

Chris raced up the stairs. "Oh fuck Piers, I was dreading this. Let's make lunch special."

"No Babe, cos' that makes it seem final, and it's not going to be. We'd better get used to this." He gave Chris a brief hug, his hazel eyes sparkling with anticipation, then he returned to his preparations. "Come on Tophie, you're on your travels too."

"Anything I can do Ace?" asked Chris, feeling a little redundant.

"Yeh, make me a big, big, sandwich please, or I'm gonna' miss lunch."

"You and your belly, it'll soon need its own transport . . . Um, did Jill say anything, when you volunteered?"

"No, why? Should she?"

"Well Dee's got plans for us I think."

"What plans?" said Piers, not really interested as he carefully packed the components of his anti-material rifle into its travel case.

"For us to go abroad, like we discussed with the President."

"There, finished! Piers smiled in satisfaction. "Nope' she didn't say anything. And unless and until she does, I'm leading Bravo, and it's gonna be first in the queue for any operations. Just like Alpha used to be, OK?"

Chris raised his hands in the air. "OK, your'e the Captain. Just remember there's more to fighting bioterrorism than Ops."

"Yeh, and you remember I'm a soldier, not a politician. Now, where's that huge sandwich Captain? Your Ace is hungry."

************************

Victor sighed, He'd already been travelling for over three hours when he arrived at Janos from his home in Ciudad Juarez. He'd got the early evening bus after finishing school, even so he wouldn't be at his grandmothers until after one o'clock in the morning, but like most Mexicans, she never went to bed early, so that was OK. He got out his sketchbook and doodled the faces of some of his fellow travellers to while away the time until the bus for Cananea left.

At 21:45 the blue and white Omnibus de Mexico Volvo pulled out of Janos, heading west on the Carretera Federal 2, the main road running close to the border between Mexico and the United States.

Thirty miles out of Janos and the road started to twist and turn as it wound its way up the Sierra Madre mountains. The passengers were restless and even the bus seemed out of sorts. Near a little village called El Valle the driver stopped at a small 24hr gas station come cafe. He wanted to top-up the bus's water levels and the passengers wanted to reduce theirs. Victor joined the end of the queue for the small toilet. He went inside whilst the others went to stretch their legs or buy a snack. As he finished he heard a soft swishing noise coming from outside. Then voices, American, then gunfire, then screams. He stood on the pedestal and looked out of the small window above it. By the lights about the empty car park he could see two dark grey helicopters, some people lying on the ground, men in camouflaged uniforms. He reached for his phone camera to get a picture and clicked off a couple of shots; but his hands were shaking and he dropped it through the window. He reached for his sketchbook. As he drew quickly he saw something led out of one of the helicopters. Sized and shaped like a huge gorilla, but with grey scaly skin and misshapen limbs, a nightmare come to life. Then another, led by a soldier in a black uniform and full helmet. The creature grunted and stopped. The soldier took off his helmet and snarled at the monster; he had six white eyes, set in a face that seemed turned inside out! Another soldier clad in a similar uniform prodded the beast to move it on. That's when Victor ran and found a small storeroom to hide in.

He forced his body into a small cupboard and pulled the door on himself. He heart pounded in his chest, he could hear occasional shouts and screams outside. He heard a nearby door open, footsteps approaching, then a guttural shout. The footsteps receded. There was the strange soft swishing noise again, then silence. He wasn't sure how long he waited, half an hour, perhaps more. Then cautiously he peered out from the cupboard. Still not a sound. He crept slowly from the storeroom towards the front of the building. The bus lay on its side, the windows smashed, the doors ripped open. Huge scratches, like claw marks covered the upturned side of the vehicle. He saw the body of the bus driver lying nearby, it seemed to have been ripped apart. There were some other bodies with what he assumed were bullet wounds. But everyone else had gone, as had the two helicopters, the soldiers in black and the monsters. Victor looked at the remains of driver again and was violently sick.

He needed to let someone know what had happened, perhaps there was a phone in the cafe? There was, but it had been smashed to pieces. Wait, his mobile, he thought. But the toilet overlooked a deep gorge between the cafe and the car park where the helicopters had landed. It was gone. Perhaps? he steeled himself to look through a bag close by one of the bodies. A mobile, unlocked. He rang the police. Sceptical at first, the video Victor took of the scene soon convinced them. They told him the road would be closed, to stay at the cafe and await help, to keep watch and report any more sightings. He rang his grandmother, just to say he was delayed, and not to worry, that he'd decided to spend the night in Janos. He hoped she believed him.

************************

Whilst Victor had been hidden the J'avo had pushed the surviving passengers into the bus and then thrown a canister inside. It burst and emitted a blue odourless gas. Screaming and writhing in agony, the passengers turned into zombies. The J'avo went onboard and checked there were no survivors, then prodded the zombies out. In an orgy of destruction the two Napads worked to push the bus over, whilst the zombies set fire to some parked cars. Then the J'avo herded them all down towards village of El Valle.

Victor slept fitfully, terrified the monsters would return. Occasionally he'd heard faint gunfire, coming from the direction of the village down in the valley. At 6 am he got a call from the police. Help was on its way, some specialised soldiers from an organisation called the BSAA would be arriving by helicopter soon, Americans. They would deal with the creatures. He was to sit tight and do as they said. They said he was very brave, _muy macho_ , and very lucky. Just then he didn't feel like any of those things.

He heard an approaching helicopter about an hour later, coming in from the east, as the sun rose. He ran out to the car park waving his arms in relief. Rescue! Barely had the helicopter landed than six soldiers jumped out, immediately forming a defensive circle. The helicopter pulled up and away. Someone shouted at him in Spanish to get down on the ground. "Stay still. Do not move!" He felt firm hands patting him down. "He's clear!" said a gruff voice. Then a gloved hand pulled him up.

"Sorry about that, can't be too careful." A handsome young soldier smiled at him. I'm Captain Nivans, BSAA, and you are?"

"Victor, Victor Hugo, Dios, I'm so pleased to see you, it was terrible. There was a monster, a soldier with six eyes, shooting, bodies . . ."

"Easy now, slow down Victor." Piers put a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder. "Explain exactly what happened in order, OK? Your'e safe now, relax."

A soldier came running over, "All clear here Captain, the nearest village is about 3 clicks south, there's smoke rising from it."

"I heard shooting in the night, I think that's where they went after they left here." said Victor.

"Right, tell me what you saw."

"I can show you, I took some photos, but lost my camera, so I made some sketches, here, in my pack."

Piers looked at the sketches. "What the f...? Victor, are you sure this is what you saw. It's very important."

"Yes Captain, exactly, I have a good eye for detail. This is what I saw last night."

"Pete, come and look at this, what do you think?"

"Definitely J'avo, some type of Napads perhaps?" Lieutenant Carter flicked through the drawings.

"Yes, but look at the choppers, those flat, angular surfaces and shrouded rotors. What colour where they Victor?"

"A dark grey Captain, about the size of your helicopter. Some of the crew spoke American, they had camouflage on. They seemed in a hurry to get the monsters out."

"They're Stealth Hawks Pete, I've never seen one, but I've read all about them. Look at that zig-zag edging on the flattened windshield, just like on an F-117, and that big tail rotor disc. The only known operator is the US Army 160th SOAR, the Night Stalkers. Christ, this is explosive intelligence. Get on a secure channel to Command and let them know about it. And send them images of these sketches. I'll get the chopper to recon the village. We'll head out in 15."

Piers looked at the young man, tall for a Mexican, only an inch or so shorter than himself. Rather sad brown eyes returned his gaze, the brow furrowed under a quiff of black hair.

"Can you fire a gun or a rifle?"

"No Captain." Victor looked down at his feet. "I'm a writer and an artist; a romantic. I don't believe in such things. Well, not until now."

Piers smiled. "The world needs artists just as much as soldiers, otherwise what are we fighting for? OK, it's best you remain here Victor." The young man looked apprehensive. "Don't worry, we won't forget you. No one gets left behind on Bravo Team." Piers smiled reassuringly. "Here, take this radio, keep in touch, especially if you see any more of those creatures. It works like this, let me show you . . ."

************************

The BOWs had attacked the village from the north. Some villagers fled south whilst others barricaded themselves in the church, the biggest building in El Valle. Many were armed, it was hunting territory.

The J'avo themselves were only lightly armed, carrying the Napads in the helicopters had a weight penalty in terms of weaponry. They hadn't been given orders as such, _create mayhem_ was all they had been told. So they had progressed slowly through the village, destroying homes and burning vehicles. They had not expected armed resistance and had failed to enter the church during the night. As dawn broke the Napads had became more confident in their cumbersome movements and prepared to assault the church.

Bravo's attack from the rear initially took them by surprise. One of the Napads was being readied to attack the heavy wooden doors of the Church. A J'avo holding a C-virus canister stood behind. He was the first to fall. Aware of the J'avos' ability to quickly mutate from injury the BSAA soldiers were using incendiary bullets for the first time. Always susceptible to high temperatures, the effects on the J'avo were dramatic. Two others soon fell, their bodies disintegrating as the magnesium and strontium of the bullets burnt inside them. The remaining J'avos re-grouped behind the Napads and returned fire. The thick armour-like scales on front of the creatures offered effective protection. Piers knew he would have to get behind them to expose the weak points under the scales on their backs. He called to Pete to make a feint to the left.

"Go left Pete and draw them away, take everyone. I'll go right and get in behind them."

But instead of attacking line abreast, the BOWs attacked in file, Piers only had a clear shot at the rearmost Napad.

"Damn it, These J'avo are not stupid. Come on Tophie, big bucks, big bangs!"

He squeezed the trigger of his anti-material rifle just as the shoulders of the Napad rose in its lumbering gait. Bang! His body absorbed the recoil. A hit, but the beast wasn't dead. It reared up in pain as the incendiary bullet burst into searing heat and flame within its back. It began to vent steam rapidly. One of its handlers caught the full force of the scalding liquid and fell down, clutching his head, screaming. Piers pumped two more rounds into the back of the creature, clouds of steam now bursting through the rupturing skin. Unable to mutate any longer, the Napad reared up again in a shroud of hissing vapour before crashing dead to the ground; crushing the blinded J'avo beneath it.

As the steam cleared, Piers scoped for the other Napad. It had reached the Bravo team position. He saw a soldier tossed into the air by the creature like a rag doll. It began to turn, seeking its injured prey; but its two J'avo handlers used their electric prods to move it onwards and away. A short hand to hand fight erupted between the remaining J'avo and Bravo. Pete back-flipped perfectly to get behind one, firing into its head at point blank range. Young Tom side kicked another viciously in the leg. Screaming, it fell to its knees. Tom wrenched the helmeted head and pulled hard. The J'avo toppled lifeless to the ground. Suddenly the noise of battle ended. Everything was still and quiet. Piers called Lieutenant Carter on the tactical net.

"Who's down Pete?"

"Andy, Cap, busted leg.  Just given him some morphine. Do you want us to pursue?"

"Send two guys to trail 'em. No, repeat, no contact, just follow alright? I'll be with you shortly."

Piers checked his surroundings then broke cover, sprinting towards his team.

"How are you old man?" said Piers, looking down at Andy. The Sergeant had a big smile on his face, he was humming quietly to himself.

"Just how much morphine did you give him Pete?"

"Enough to stop him swearing Cap. Er, he could have compromised our, um, position."

Piers grinned. "Good man, you'll make Captain in no time at this rate."

The Recon team checked in. "Bravo Two, they're heading for the gas station. Might be expecting evac.

 _Shit, Victor's still there!_ Piers had to make a decision, fast.

"Tom, this is the Captain. Make your way directly to the gas station. Avoid contact with the BOWs, just get there ahead of them. The civilian is there, protect him, OK?

"Bravo Six roger that, I'm on my way."

"Doug, you stick with the BOWs, keep us and Six informed. We'll head up to RV at the gas station once we're clear here."

"Bravo Four here, copied."

Then Piers called Victor. "Hide, until I say you can come out. Help is on its way, alright? Don't worry, we won't be long, hang in there kiddo."

The surviving townsfolk had emerged from the church. The armed men went off in search of the remaining zombies. The priest approached the three BSAA soldiers.

He blessed them for their rescue, and for a moment Piers and Pete bowed their heads as the priest prayed. Piers explained the situation as best he could to the priest, and assured him a clean up team would soon be on its way. That no one should touch the BOWs or the infected zombies. Two ladies came up, they had found a old stretcher in the Doctors house. There were tears in their eyes, grateful to their rescuers, appalled at the tragedy that had befallen their little pueblo . . .

The two J'avo didn't know they'd been tracked, but even so they approached the car park warily. The first one was an easy target for Tom, crouching behind the overturned bus. But his shot gave his position away. The other J'avo sought cover, but the Napad lumbered towards the bus. Tom ran to the other end of the bus and immediately attracted fire from the remaining J'avo. He felt an excruciating pain in his back, like someone had kicked him. The force of the shot bowled him over towards a low wall overlooking the gorge. He blacked out. The Napad wasn't sure where Tom was so it swung up onto the upturned side of the bus to get a better view. It roared in triumph as it saw its prey lying stunned against the wall on the other side. Standing on its short rear legs it raised its massive arms in the air. Tophie spat flame. From 500 yards away Piers, alerted by the gunfire had scoped the creature when it jumped up on the bus. Three incendiary bullets struck in quick succession. Venting steam from its wounds and mouth, the dying Napad fell forward with the momentum of the hits. Just as he was recovering consciousness Tom looked up to see the creature falling directly towards him. They both crashed through the wall and toppled down into the gorge below. Doug took out the last J'avo as it turned to see where the three rounds had come from.

Doug ran forward to where he hoped Tom was, then saw the broken wall. He peered over, the gorge was deep and thickly wooded at the bottom. He called out and tried all tactical channels, there was no response.

"Captain, this is Bravo Four, I think Tom's bought it. The Napad took him over the edge, there's no comms."

"Command, have you got vitals on Bravo Six? This is urgent."

"Negative Bravo One. Satellite link is open, no vitals being transmitted this time . . ."

************************

Piers had suddenly been recalled to base. The clean-up team would conduct a search for Tom and the Napad. Piers had railed against the recall. In the end it had taken a direct verbal order from Jill. He hated the idea of Tom's body being left by Bravo. It went against every instinct of the ethos he had learnt from Chris. No one gets left behind. Only the thought of getting Andy back home quickly had finally persuaded him. They took young Victor with them to El Paso airport where a C-21 was waiting to fly Piers and Andy back. The others would return in the C-17 with the clean up team. Piers took Victor's address.

"Your sketches are classified I'm afraid, like the rest of the last 24 hours. The Mexican police are here, they'll want to talk to you, then get you home. We'll be in touch later. Thanks for all your help Victor, you were very brave."

Victor blushed. "I, Im sorry about your friend, he was trying to protect me. I shall think of you all in my prayers tonight." Piers made to leave. "Oh, wait, I did a sketch of you Captain."

Piers looked at it and forced himself to smile. "Thanks kiddo." He shook Victor's hand, then turned and left.

************************

Piers returned to the base late in the evening. Chris was there to meet him as the jet came to a halt on the pan. A stretcher came off the plane first. It was Andy. Chris managed a quick reassuring smile and a pat on his arm before Andy was taken away in an ambulance. Chris saw a familiar form silhouetted in the aircraft doorway. But the shoulders were hunched and the head hung low. As he walked slowly down the steps Piers looked tired and grim.

"My God Ace, you look awful, what the hell happened? He swept up Piers' gear in one hand and put the other around his partner's shoulder. Piers shrugged it away angrily and looked up at Chris. The confident young face that had left two days previously had aged.

"I lost Tom, Chris. Damn near lost Andy. I should be with my team right now. Why am I back here? What the fuck is so important I have to leave my men?"

"I know Ace, nothing ever prepares you for it, when it's your own team. It gets personal. Please, try and calm down babe, Jill and I will explain at the debrief." Chris put his hand back on Piers' shoulder, heavily. It would not be pushed away again.

"Colonel Valentine? I might have known, this is a cluster fuck!"

Chris stopped abruptly. "Listen to me Piers, it was Dee not Jill who ordered you back. He had a fit when he found you were away on Ops. Had another row with Jill and demanded your immediate recall. Things are moving fast worldwide. There are bioterrorism attacks everywhere. Christ, I know how you feel only too well, but now is not the time to feel sorry for yourself. Remember why we're here? The BSAA needs both of us fit and able right now. Chris turned and faced his partner, looking into his red-rimmed eyes. Piers, we're going to Edonia in two days, under cover!"

************************

'Brrr, Brrr . . . Brrr . . . Piers wan't sure if it was his phone or Chris gently snoring. It was his phone.

"Hello? Piers Nivans."

"Hi Captain, where are you guys? Is someone gonna' pick me up?"

"Tom! Is that you? Oh fuck, I've never felt so . . . It is you, yes? Tell me it's you!"

"Yeah, it's me Captain."

Piers punched Chris in the arm. "It's Tom, he's alive, wake up Bear! Tom, where are you, is that a party I can hear? What the f . . ."

"I'm in El Valle, the locals are treating me like a hero, I'm a bit drunk, or it might be the concussion . . . How come you forgot me?"

"You weren't forgotten Tom, long story, politics. The clean-up team found the Napad, but couldn't reach it. They though you were underneath, um, dead. So they set fire to it with a flamethrower."

"Jeez, well I was under it for while. I managed to ride it as we fell. It took all the impact, but then it rolled on top of me."

"Wait, you rode it down? Like a horse?"

"Well, more like a steer I guess, that must be when I got concussed, when it rolled over, so when I came round I squirmed out and fell the next twenty feet or whatever, that's how I broke my collar bone and then I got confused and lost, and I probably passed out a few times, that's what the Doc here thinks, I ended up below the gas station and would you believe it I found a phone, so I called for help and the villagers came and rescued me and now we're having a fiesta and Oh, I found some photos on the phone that'll please the Intel boys and I've had some tequila and some other stuff and how's Andy and . . ."

"Oh Tom, it's so good to hear you, but please pause for breath, I don't wanna' lose you twice! Andy's fine, enjoying the attention of the nurses." Piers laughed, and punched a drowsy Chris again. "It's Tom, and he's had tequila!"

"Humph, I need some too, stop hitting me. Tell him to get his ass back here pronto, or I might end up with a broken arm."

"Tom, listen, I'll alert Command, they'll arrange an evac. Probably tomorrow, when you've sobered up. I gonna let the team know now, OK? They won't mind being woken up."

"Ha, like _I_ had a choice?" groaned Chris.

"Shut up Bear! Alright Tom, we'll see you soon, and hold onto that phone."

"Say Hi to the guys for me Captain. Adi . . . Adio . . . What? Oh it's Adios? Adios."

"I take it Tom's alive then Ace?"

"Yes, isn't that fantastic?"

"So, um, your happy now, not, er sulking?"

"I'm on top of the world babe!"

"Oh good, well, er, perhaps you'd like to get on top of this and celebrate some more?"

"Bearfield! I've got some calls to make, won't it keep?"

"An hour or so won't make any difference to Bravo. My soldier, on the other hand, is already standing to attention . . ."

"Ah, yes, so I see . . ."

************************

It was their last night in the Deuce of Hearts. The next day Chris and Piers would leave for Washington, and then Europe. They had bid a fond goodbye to Ruff when they dropped him off at Mary Ellis' house. Chris had to hide his tears, he hadn't realised how the puppy had worked its way into his heart. On the drive back home he thought about how Piers had done exactly the same thing. And then he cried. He put an arm around Piers who was driving.

"Don't leave me Ace, ever! Do you promise?"

Piers second-guessed the reason for the display of emotion. "He'll be fine, he loves it there with Poochie and the kids. And we'll be fine too, you big softie!" . . .

After they had parked up, Piers went into the enclosed garden. He returned to Chris with a big smile on his face. It's ready. The last one! Grab some blankets and some candles . . . come on!"

It had become one of their annual traditions, watching the last leaf on the little cherry tree fall. Last year, it had been one of a bunch that fell in a stiff breeze. This year it was indeed a solitary leaf, red and gold, frail and twisted; about to join its brothers on the ground below. To Piers the colours symbolised nothing more than the fall. To Chris they looked disturbingly like the colours of the wolf's head ring that nestled in his pocket. They sat waiting with the blankets wrapped around them, each lost in their own thoughts. A sudden gust of wind made the candles gutter. As the last leaf fell Chris suddenly reached out and caught it in his hand.

"No, not yet kiddo. Afterwards, when we come back."

"Babe? What's that all about?"

"I, I'm not sure Ace. It doesn't feel right, like it's tempting fate. It can stay on the mantlepiece indoors until we come back. _Then_ it can join the others."

Chris said it with an air of absolute finality. Piers knew better than to ask why; it was an order rather than an observation.

As they went inside Chris suddenly kissed Piers full on the lips.

"That was unexpected! Any particular reason?" said Piers, a little taken aback. Chris grinned, his dark eyes twinkling.

"Oh, I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you . . . _Full_ Captain Piers Nivans!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, another long one (but worth it!) Well, that completes the Autumn Leaves story arc. I do hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And I hope you approve of my bringing Tom back from the dead. Some people think I make a habit of bumping my characters off. So enough . . . for now!
> 
> Next time will be the start of a Winter arc, set mainly in Edonia. Some new characters and some familiar faces are ready and waiting.
> 
> As always, you comments are most welcome. nimrod262


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